


All I Do Know is We're Here and It's Now

by waughisme



Category: Hamlet - All Media Types, Hamlet - Shakespeare, Original Work
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waughisme/pseuds/waughisme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamlet's father, Henry, keeps a promise he made to a friend, who served with him in the war- that promise was to make sure his son, Horatio, would complete his schooling. When Horatio's dad dies, Henry fulfills his promise and welcomes him into his family, and the lord's son takes a special interest in the newcomer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I have ever done this, so I hope you all like it. I am changing a few things, most specifically names and titles. For example, Hamlet's father is not a king, nonetheless they are a wealthy family and should fall under the category of "Lord." This story is not set in a specific time, but it could take place anytime between now and the previous century. Again, I hope you like it and please go easy on me as this is my first story. Thank you! :D

The rain and wind were finally diminishing as the day was now turning into night. Earlier that morning, a fight broke out between the west and east side of the fronts, but stopped suddenly as the rain started to pour down. It was amazing how only the weather could stop the violence, even if it was only for a few hours. Lord Henry could be seen moving quickly to get to his tent. Everywhere he looked, he could see nothing but men suffering in the trenches; men with bandages around their head that was covered with mud and dried blood, a man slumping down on the side moaning and talking to himself about his desire to be dead, another man staring into the air and not blinking. These were men of all ages and all had their own life story, but in this trench they all shared one common trait: pain. Even Henry ached to go back home. To be home back at the castle with his wife, Gertrude, and their son, Hamlet.

Henry finally reached his tent and took a deep breath as he sat down on his cot. It has been almost seven months now since he last slept in a proper bed. His boots were soaking wet and his socks practically stuck to his feet as the weight of the water was taking hold of them and making a struggle for Henry to take them off. But he finally did and changed into a new pair and laid down, concentrating on his breathing. 

“Lieutenant Henry?” came an unknown voice from outside the tent.

“Yes.”

“Oh, hello, I’m Anthony Ventress. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I use to watch over the northeast side, but Captain Mulcaster transferred me over here to the southwest side where I shall be assisting you and Lt. Daniels.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I do remember now that they told me you were coming. There is an extra bed in the corner over there and I was just about to have dinner if you would like to join me.”

Anthony agreed to the invitation and proceeded to put his bag on his bed and move back to the small crate in the middle of the tent. This is were Henry and Daniels ate their meals almost every day but mostly at night.

“I got a few pieces of bread and cheese and we have been enjoying this nice bottle of vermouth,” said Henry.

Anthony seemed pleased by the dinner special. Once Henry split up the food into equal proportions to share, he began to ask questions to get to know more about the new man.

“Alright, tell me everything about your wife, children, what you did before the war and how terrible your old job was and how after this you will go back to that same job but with a tad bit of appreciativeness,” said Henry.

“Actually, I liked my old job,” said Anthony. “I use to work in the factories for most of the time and during the spring and summer, I would take a ride up to help my brother-in-law with the farm. My wife is a nurse at the local hospital and my son, Horatio, just started school last month. I wish I was there to see him on his first day.” A melancholic look appeared on Anthony's face as he looked down.

“You miss them?”

“Oh very much,” said Anthony. “How about you, wife, kids?”

“One wife, one son, Hamlet.”

“Hamlet? I have never heard such a name before. Is it English?”

“No, Danish. My wife and I are both Danish descent. He,too, just started school. We’re actually homeschooling him but we hired one of the best tutors in the country.”

“That must be nice having him home all day.”

“I suppose.”

The men sipped their drinks until an explosion went off outside their tent.

“Better go check that out,” said Henry as he quickly got up from his chair to go outside. Anthony followed and both men stood trying to see what was going on, but night already settled in and the fog and dust were too thick. Henry started walking into the smoke to see if anybody needed help.

“Look out!” shouted Anthony as he ran and grabbed Henry and pulled him down as another grenade went off right next to them.

“Are you alright, sir?” said Anthony.

“No, it’s my leg. Oh Anthony, it’s not there is it?” exclaimed Henry rolling over back and forth in the muddy trench.

“Your leg is still there sir, don’t worry. Come on I got to get you out of here.” said Anthony lifting Henry and carrying him now on his back.

“Come on now, we can’t lose you. I see an ambulance!” It was adrenaline that was allowing Anthony to run as he could with a 170 pound injured man on his back.

“It’s Lt. Lord Henry. He injured his leg!” said Anthony to the ambulance driver. The driver got out of the vehicle and opened the doors and helped Anthony place the wounded man in the car.

“You’re going to be alright sir, just hang in there!”

* * *

 

It was about four in the afternoon the next day when Henry finally woke up. The sun was out and shining bright. It was the first real sunny day in almost two weeks. Henry was sleeping in a bed and observed his new location. He was at the hospital and Anthony was away sleeping in the chair just opposite of the bed. The door opened and in came a man wearing a doctor’s coat and carrying a clipboard.

“How are you Lt. Henry?” said the man.

“A bit numb. Is my leg still there?”

“Of course. You didn’t lose anything, but you might have if it weren’t for that man who pushed you out of the way just in time.” said the man pointing to Anthony, who was now snoring.

“You really should thank him. It could have been worse. Actually you might not be here right now if it weren’t for him. Some of the soldiers came in and told me that it was a pretty bad explosion last night. Fifteen people dead and twelve injured. But you will be alright. Oh, by the way, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Doctor Hawkins.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, well, just rest for now but unfortunately I will have to send you back soon as possible as we have limited space. Sorry about that.” “No problem I understand.”

“Thank you. Rest well.”

“Thank you.”

The closing of the door from Dr. Hawkins finally woke up Anthony.

“How are you?” said Anthony, still sleepy.

“I might not be here if it weren’t for you.”

“Yes, that’s what they told me.”

“You saved my life.”

Anthony looked down and began to blush. “Well, what was I suppose to do let you die?” he said smirking a bit.

“Anthony, you saved my life. Fifteen men are dead and twelve are severely injured and I am here feeling a bit numb but I am still here and alive. That reason has to do with you. If you ever need anything, please let me know. I owe you my life.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, I just pushed you down, really.”

“Honestly, Anthony, what do you need? Money? I would be more than happy to sign a check to give to you, your wife and son. Really, please let me know what it is you want because I owe you that much. I promise I will do anything.”

“Well, as of right now, I just want to go home but I don’t think you could do that right now could you.”

Henry partially smiled and looked down. _To go home_ , he thought. _Wouldn’t that be nice_. _To be back at home with Gertrude, in my own bed. And to see Hamlet and hear about school and all the new things he is discovering everyday._

“You are right on that,” said Henry after a few minutes. “I can’t send you home but I, I don’t know... I could buy you a new home for your family if that is what you would like.”

Anthony lightly laughed. “No, our home is fine. How about I think about it and will let you know.”

“Okay,” said Henry smiling.

“Good. Now I really got to go back. Get well soon, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Anthony. See you back there.”

Henry finally returned to the trenches and he and Anthony kept watch of the southwest side of the trench. Anthony never brought back up the topic of the promise that Henry made. Two months passed and the war finally ended just in time for Christmas, with the signatures of a treaty.

Henry and Anthony were bidding each other goodbye at the train station before they went their separate ways, back to their old lives. With a strong handshake, a couple of “thank you’s” and “I will miss you” and “You and your family should visit us sometime when the weather gets nicer” were exchanged between the men. The train horn sounded letting the travelers know it was time to leave. One last goodbye between Henry and Anthony and finally, it was Anthony who left first on the train.

* * *

 

Days became months and months became years and Henry and Anthony never saw each other. No letters exchanged, even though they traded addresses. No one visited. No one telephoned. Henry went back to work as being a Lord and went to meetings, and parties, and made more money but it wasn’t like he needed more money as all the money he had was passed down to him. He still had money that belonged to his great-grandfather. Henry went back home to his wife, Gertrude, loving her more than ever because he had been gone for so long. Hamlet looked like a child now and no longer a baby. He recited the alphabet and counted to 100, tied his own shoes, brushed his own teeth and read a few William Blake poetry to Henry before he went to bed.

While being away at war, Henry often worried that there might be severe changes when he got home. But if there was big change it was merely just the fact that his son Hamlet was growing up.

But, a change was slowing creeping up every new year. It seemed that as time went on, Henry became very irrational. He was spending money on lavish and ridiculous things like food and drink and showcasing strange shows at the castle. Even in his political life, he was presenting bizarre new ideas and laws that he would like to see get passed.Years passed and Henry got worst as he got older. Gertrude remained the same: elegant and aging gracefully. Hamlet was now seventeen, who was well-read but struggled in school. He was shy and terribly modest and didn’t have many friends. Nonetheless, he grew up to be quite handsome.

Sometimes, during one of his father’s drunken rages, he often became the victim of Henry’s bullying, asking Hamlet why was he so shy and weak. Of course, Hamlet would never fight back. There really was no point in it as Henry would always win.

It was a March day when Henry received the news. It was unusually warm and sunny outside. Henry, Gertrude, Hamlet, and Claudius- Henry’s brother, where all sitting down in the great dining room eating their dinner. Eating dinner in the grand dining room was one of Henry’s oddities. As a family, they use to eat in a smaller room that had a round table and seated eight people. In the grand dining room, the table was long and lateral and seated more than forty people. Henry sat at the head of the table and Gertrude sat on his right. It was only recently that Hamlet no longer sat on his father’s left, but instead moved to the middle of the table about twenty chairs away from his father and mother. It was just far away enough were he couldn’t hear their conversations and they thought there was no point in conversing with Hamlet because he sat so far away. Claudius would occiasonnally eat with Henry and his family. Claudius would sit opposite of Henry at the other end of the table. He never bothered to sit next to Hamlet or talk to him. Usually, he would bring a newspaper or scroll through his phone, looking at God knows what.

Dinner was ate in silence most of the time and this time it was no different, until now. The doors opened and entered Polonius, Henry’s chief counselor, who was carrying a letter address to Henry.

“I am very sorry my lord and I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner, but this letter just came and the messenger said it was urgent that you read it,” said Polonius.

“Alright, give it to me,” said Henry, snatching the letter away. Gertrude looked closely at the letter trying to see who sent it.

“Anthony Ventress?” said Henry. “Anthony Ventress, Anthony Ventress, I know that name from somewhere, where did I meet an Anthony Ventress?” Henry was now getting up out of his chair, tapping the letter against the palm of his hand. Gertrude watched her husband stroll right out of the room, still questioning how he knew an Anthony Ventress.

“Is everything alright?” said Hamlet who left his place and walked over to his mother.

“Oh, I am sure, dear,” said Gertrude.

“I only ask because I don’t think I have ever seen him leave with his plate still full.”

Gertrude smiled and then looked at the door that her husband had went through.

* * *

 

_Dear Henry,_

_I hope you haven’t forgotten me because I still remember you. But if you have, I completely understand. It’s been about thirteen years now since we last saw each other. Everyday I thank God that that war is over and we will never have to experience the horrific conditions of such violence and grotesque housing like those trenches. I pray that our sons, Horatio and Hamlet, may never experience the hell where youth and laughter go. I still dream about those cramped trenches, and wake up and find myself safe in my bed and safe at the factory. I hope you are doing well Henry. I hope God has been very good to you as when I knew you I thought you were very honorable and I am sure you still are. As for me, I have been diagnosed with lung cancer. It seems that I have just breathed in enough chemicals during that time at war that it has filled my lungs and only allows me to live a few more weeks. I don’t want to die Henry but I know I must. Do you remember when that grenade went off and I saved you? You made a promise to me in the hospital that you would do anything for me. Well, after thirteen years, I am now asking you to please fulfill your promise. I would love nothing more than for my son, Horatio, to complete his education. He is now seventeen, I believe the same age as your Hamlet. He is very smart, but since my diagnosis, he wants to quit school and go work at the factory to support him and his mother, my wife. I don’t want him to quit. I want him to finish secondary school and go on to university. All I ask from you Henry, is to please meet with my son and convince him to stay in school. If you could, please pay for his education. My wife and I can no longer afford to keep him in the school he is currently attending, so I ask you to please help us and help him stay in school. As I said, I would like to remember you as an honorable man and I hope in Jesus’s name to please help my son, Horatio. I know that once he has finished his schooling, he can get a job and support his mother and pay you back. Please take my plea into consideration._

_Love and God Bless,_

_Anthony_

* * *

 

Memories of the war were pushed forward now in Henry’s mind. He spent so much time trying to forgot those three years in that hell of a trench, with all its blood and crying. He even pushed Anthony Ventress out of his mind, but it all came back to him after reading that letter. _Oh dear Anthony, kind and caring Anthony,_ Henry thought.

Dessert and coffee was well passed being served at the dinner table when Henry finally came back. Claudius already left and Gertrude was enjoying a nice chocolate mousse with a decaf coffee. Hamlet was reading, _Our Mutual Friend,_ and letting his tea get cold.

“Is everything alright?” asked Gertrude.

“We are going to have a boy stay with us,” announced Henry.

“What do you mean?”

“An old friend of mine is dying and he asked me if we could take in his son.”

“How old is he?”

“Hamlet’s age, seventeen. Did you hear that Hamlet, you’re going to have a new friend very soon. A boy your age named Horatio is going to live with us. Albert, please go mail this letter right now. The man is dying and while he is still alive I want him to know that I am keeping my promise. And that the boy shall be welcomed into our family.”

Hamlet heard his father for once at dinner. At this point, he was pretending to read but his mind became distracted at the thought that his family was taking in another person. They already done this with Polonius and his family. His children, Laertes and Ophelia stayed at the castle and hardly kept him company. If anything, Hamlet was often, again, the victim of Laertes's cruel bullying and Ophelia’s sick mind games that she would always play on him. Hamlet made up his mind- he would hate Horatio, even though he had never met him, never heard of him before. _No chances to get to know him at all,_ Hamlet decided. _He’s probably going to team up with Laertes and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to pick on me,_  Hamlet thought to himself.

That night before Hamlet went to bed, he wrote furiously in his journal about this new intruder named Horatio. _I hate him,_ he wrote. _I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, and I don’t even know him. I wish I could just sleep and never wake up._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Ch. 2! Thank you to 2B_or_not_2B and the 3 guests who left kudos!

It took a few days for Horatio to finally respond to Lord Henry’s letter, which he insisted that Horatio should pay him a visit at Elsinore to talk more about his father’s dying wish for his son to complete his education. 

Horatio wrote back that he would arrive to the fortress at the end of the month.

In the mean time, Gertrude seemed to have the servants prepare the castle specifically for Horatio.

“Give him the room that faces the gardens, and polish the floors, and be sure to have some fresh fruit out on the coffee table in his bedroom when he arrives. Oh the poor boy! How terrible it must be to lose your father at such a young age!” Gertrude said.

The way how the family talked about Horatio, one would think he was their own godson or nephew. They never even met him and yet they were practically ready to add him to the inheritance of their estate.

Still, Hamlet could not help but have only a spiteful feeling for Horatio, as he truly believed his own myth that once Horatio met the other people who roam around Elsinore, he would turn on Hamlet and be nothing but cruel.

In Hamlet’s mind, he pictured Horatio to be an ugly and distorted 17 year old. 

_“I bet he’s got acne all over his face and greasy hair that comes down to his eyes. And I bet he’s got yellow teeth and whatever clothes he will be wearing will be out-of-place,"_  so Hamlet thought.

* * *

 

The day finally arrived.

Horatio would be at the palace at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. The house was all clean and prepared. Everyone was dressed very nicely and feeling excited awaiting for the new boy.

Hamlet stood in one of the guest bedrooms that overlooked the front of the house. He planned on not going downstairs at all and was hoping that maybe he could eat dinner in his bedroom. Unlike his parents, Hamlet was the least dressed-up, only in a t-shirt that read the name of some university and jeans. He was completely determined to avoid Horatio and should he have to meet Horatio, he would be mean to him before Horatio could be mean to Hamlet.

The sound of a car’s motor could be heard and the sound of the wheels on the gravel were also apparent. Hamlet, who after a while of just standing by the window decided to lie down on the bed, got up to see the black car pull up to the front door.

Hamlet’s heart started beating fast. First, the driver got out and a butler started unloading the car’s trunk. The backdoor of the car opened and out came a tall young man, who looked about Hamlet's age.

Hamlet continued watching, waiting for Horatio, but no one else got out of the car. It was just this tall guy, who began to help the butler unload the back of the car. Hamlet couldn’t make out his face but remained in disbelief that this was Horatio.

Hamlet began to leave the room and broke his own conviction by leaving the upstairs and go downstairs to meet Horatio.

_“That wasn’t him. No way could that be him.”_ thought Hamlet.

Upon reaching the middle of the staircase, Hamlet could see his parents shaking hands with the newcomer. 

“It is so nice to meet you, Horatio and I’m so sorry to hear about your father,” Hamlet could hear his mother saying.

Hamlet finally descended from the staircase and came closer to his parents, who heard his footsteps and turned around.

“Oh Hamlet, you’re just in time, this is Horatio. Horatio this is our son, Hamlet.” said Gertrude.

What Hamlet saw was not the demented image he had in mind of Horatio. Instead, what stood in front of him was a tall boy who looked the same age as Hamlet- 17 maybe 18 years old. He had olive colored skin and was well-built and a deep-set of brown eyes and short brown hair. By the look of his skin and body, one could tell his job involved physical work that took place outside. He was obviously wearing the best clothes he owned, which was just a sweater over a shirt and dress pants and his shoes had some scruff on them.

“Hamlet? Aren’t you going to say hello,” Gertrude said, trying to sound calm and happy but it came out a bit perturb.

“Hi,” Hamlet said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Horatio, smiling and extending his hand out. Actually, his smile has never left his face since his arrival.

“You too,” said Hamlet, joining his hand with Horatio’s. With a simple touch of the hand, Hamlet broke away quickly as he could already feel his heart beating fast and the palm of his hand becoming wet.

“ _What is going on? I’m suppose to hate him.”_ thought Hamlet. 

“I already had Albert, our butler, take your luggage up to your room,” said Gertrude. “We will have dinner in two hours and I hope you will join us.”

“Thank you, I am more than happy to join you all, as you have been so kind to me,” said Horatio.

“I do hope you enjoy your stay with us,” Henry chimed in. “Albert will show you to your room. I am sure you are very tired so get some rest and we will let you know when dinner is ready.”

“Thank you all so much for hosting me at your home. You are right at that, my lord, I am very tired, but don’t worry I will be down here for dinner,” said Horatio, still smiling.

* * *

 

It was around 5 o’clock, the usual time when Hamlet went downstairs to eat dinner with his family.

He walked to the grand dining hall, ready to eat another awkward dinner with his parents, who all sat so isolated from each other. He wondered where Horatio would sit. 

As Hamlet opened the doors to the dining hall, he noticed it was empty. No candles, no food, no tablecloth. 

One of the servants walked by behind him and he turned around asking to know were was everyone. 

“They’re eating in the small dining room tonight, my lord.”

“But we never eat in there,” said Hamlet.

“I know and I don’t know why there is a change this time,” said the servant, who sounded irritated the longer he stood there with Hamlet.

The small dining room was a bit of a walk from the grand dining room. It was more towards the back of the castle. Hamlet couldn’t remember the last time he ate in there. The dining room was much more intimate and you did not feel the sense of loneliness like the grand room. 

Hamlet entered in late and could already see that everyone was just beginning their main course. Horatio sat between Henry and Polonius, and Claudius and Gertrude sat next to each other. Hamlet noticed there were two empty chairs that separated his mother and Osric, one of his father’s annoying courtiers. After taking five years of learning the art of mannerisms, Hamlet knew he couldn’t sit next to his mother as that would be rude, so the empty chair next to Osric was filled by him.

“Hamlet, darling, where were you?” said Gertrude.

“I got lost.”

“In your own home?”

“We never go back this far in our house, mother,” said Hamlet.

Gertrude rolled her eyes and went back talking to Claudius.

“Hamlet, I am so delighted to have you sitting next to me,” said Osric trying to sound all pompous. “I have been meaning to ask you about Tintoretto, as I know you just went to Venice this past summer…”

Hamlet couldn’t hear Osric. He wasn’t paying attention. At first, he was just lightly poking at his food with his fork and then looked up and saw Horatio.

Horatio was still smiling, looking back and forth between Hamlet’s father and Polonius, who were both slightly drunk. Horatio’s brown eyes continued to glisten from the light of the chandelier and the candles that were lit. He had a nice, warm smile and laugh whenever Henry or Polonius would say something funny. Hamlet couldn’t tell what they were talking about. He could only hear voices but no words. A waiter came out carrying a bottle of wine and asked Henry if he would like to try it. 

“Perfect! Bring three glasses, Stephen,” said Henry and continued his conversation and laughter.

Stephen, one of the waiters, brought out three wine glasses and poured one for Henry, Polonius, and Horatio. Henry tried his best to sound sober and teach Horatio how to drink wine. Hamlet watched as Horatio brought the glass to his lips and take a sip. When done, a bit of the wine stained his lips and Hamlet could feel his cheeks and ears become hot. A sudden curious urge came over Hamlet as he wondered what it must be like to taste the sweet wine off of Horatio’s delicate lips.

“…and I know his work is often criticized and…Hamlet, are you listening to me?” said Osric.

“What?” Hamlet said.

Osric continued to talk and it made Hamlet wince. Any voice that was not Horatio’s, pierced Hamlet’s ears. 

Dinner ended with Gertrude and Claudius helping Henry up to bed, and Polonius taking care of his drunk-self clutching onto any object that would support him as he made his way to his room. Horatio was following the group but was stuck talking to Osric as they walked up the stairs. In just what minutes that he had with Horatio, Osric tried to learn every personal detail about him. Horatio kept smiling and answering politely to Osric’s questions. Finally, they stopped outside Horatio’s bedroom door, standing there a few more minutes, with Horatio slowing losing his perfect posture and began to shift his weight from one leg to the other while talking to Osric, who wouldn’t shut up.

“That is very interesting, but I am very sorry Osric, but I had a long day and I am very tired,” said Horatio remaining polite.

“I understand, my dear boy, you need your rest and we will continue our discussion tomorrow at breakfast. I usually eat most of the time with his Lordship, so I will see you tomorrow,” said Osric. 

“Goodnight Osric,” said Horatio.

Osric bid Horatio good night and walked to his own room.

Hamlet was downstairs standing at the end of the staircase. As he descended up to go to his own room, he passed Horatio’s door and stopped. He gazed at the door for a few minutes thinking of Horatio, believing that he must look so peaceful while sleeping.

Out of the dark hallway, Hamlet heard a noise and walked quickly to get to his own bedroom. 

That night, Hamlet went to bed lessening the idea that he made to himself to hate Horatio.

_“Maybe he is nice,”_ thought Hamlet. 

Before he went to sleep, Hamlet decided that tomorrow would be the day that he would talk to Horatio. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Ch. 3 is now posted and I am sorry that these chapters are so long. I will try to make it shorter in the future, unless you don't mind. I am also on spring break, so I should be able to post some more later this week (we'll see). (Disclaimer: there are some lines quoted from Oscar Wilde's short story, The Fisherman and His Soul. I did not write it and all lines used from that story are credited to Mr. Wilde. Also, there is a brief crude comment towards the end.) Finally, I just want to give a big thank you to Kimbeen and the 2 guests who left kudos! :D Without further ado, here is Ch. 3...

It was still early morning when Hamlet awoke from his sleep. He spent the whole night thinking about Horatio and what he would say to him when he finally could get a chance to talk to him.

Hamlet had the whole conversation in his head planned out on how he would begin talking to Horatio.

_“He will probably be eating breakfast when I get downstairs. It’s too early for dad to be there- he usually eats around 11. Mother usually takes breakfast in bed. If anyone else should come to breakfast, they usually eat with dad. Which means…”_

Which means, it would just be Hamlet and Horatio eating breakfast together.

Hamlet decided he would begin the conversation by saying ‘Good Morning,’ and asking Horatio how he liked dinner the night before, and there will probably be some silence after that, in which case Hamlet can bring up school. 

“ _You can never go wrong with the topic of school,”_ Hamlet thought.

After some time, Hamlet got out of bed and took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs.

As he walked to the room where his family had their breakfast, he could already feel his heart beating faster. He took a deep breath before pulling down the handle on the door and went in.

To his dismay, no one was there, except the family’s butler, Albert, who was making sure each place setting was perfect.

“Albert, where is everyone?”

“I believe they are still sleeping, my lord.”

“You mean, no one came down and ate yet?”

“Well, the new boy, Horatio did come down but all he asked for was a piece of toast and said he would eat it on his walk.”

Hamlet squinted his eyes at Albert in an expression that read, _“Thank you Albert, you just ruined my whole plan.”_

“I’m sorry, my lord, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Well, do you know where he went walking?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, I don’t, but if I see him I will tell him that it is urgent that he speaks to you this morning.”

“Never mind that, I’ll go find him myself,” Hamlet said as he turned and paced out the door.

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast, my lord?”

The sound of the slamming of a door was the answer to Albert’s question.

 

Hamlet stopped walking once he stepped out on to the patio. The realization hit him that there were about forty acres of land that his family owned and Horatio could be anywhere.

Hamlet decided to begin by walking to the little pond that was next to the mausoleum, where the tomb of his great-grandparents were buried.

It had been a long time since he went over that way to the pond and monument. As a boy, he use to spend all his days in the spring and summer exploring the land that his family owned. Sometimes, he would climb trees and play pretend games or read books. Most of the time, he was by himself, as Laertes and Ophelia wouldn’t play with him. When he did ask them to play, he usually got a snotty remark from them. After some time of being by himself, he enjoyed his own company and looked at these lands that were far away from the castle as being a safe haven that accepted him. Hamlet was safe out there in nature- no one would bother him or hurt him. He had all the flowers and the trees and the sky and the sun to himself and he was safe. 

After some time of revisiting these places that he hadn’t been to since he was a child, Hamlet started heading back to the castle with the notion that Horatio might already be back.

There was a shortcut through the garden that he took that led right to the living room of the castle. Hamlet began whistling and quietly singing some song from his childhood while walking through the rows of the rose bushes.

Hamlet was in his own world, but came back into reality all too quickly when he stumbled over something.

“Oh excuse me, I’m sorry!” a voice said.

Hamlet looked back and saw it was Horatio.

Horatio was standing up now. He must have been lying under one of the cherry blossom trees and it was his feet that Hamlet tripped over. 

“It’s no problem," said Hamlet. "I should have looked where I was going."

“No it’s my fault, my lord, I’m very sorry. I probably shouldn’t be here anyways. I know the gardens are supposed to be private and I’m really sorry.” Horatio kept babbling about how sorry he was for being in the garden. He was now walking away from Hamlet still apologizing and talking with his hands.

_“_ Honestly, Horatio, I don’t mind if you stay. It would actually be a good thing to be honest as no one comes in here any more,” said Hamlet, and that was true- no one ever walked through the gardens anymore.

Horatio stopped walking and stood still.

“What do you mean no one comes in here anymore? How can anyone ignore it? It’s probably the most peaceful place I have ever been in,” said Horatio, forgetting his manners when talking to someone of noble descent. 

“I guess, we don’t appreciate what we have,” said Hamlet, now sitting down on one of the stone benches.

“Well, you should appreciate it. You should appreciate everything that you have. That’s what my dad use to tell me. He use to say that everyday is a gift and you should enjoy it and be thankful for what you have.”

Hamlet looked at Horatio, who now seated himself next to Hamlet on the bench. Horatio was looking down at his hands and had a contemplating expression on his face.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” said Hamlet.

“It’s alright. Thank you.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I do. But, to be honest, I’m kinda glad he is dead. He suffered so much. Always having coughing fits and the doctors restricted him on doing his favorite activites. What I mean is that I’m glad he is no longer suffering, but I do miss him terribly.”

Horatio now turned to look at Hamlet, who couldn’t stop staring at Horatio.

“By the way, thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Have you talk to my father?” asked Hamlet.

“Yes, I have. I’m going to be finishing my last year of school with you and some other students who are residents here. After that, I plan on applying to Wittenberg and hopefully I’ll get in.”

“I was thinking of Wittenberg, too.”

“Really? That would be nice if we both got accepted. Maybe we could share a dorm together, as I probably won’t know anyone.”

Hamlet began to think about him and Horatio both at university. Together. As room mates. Sharing a room. Together.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Hamlet trying to remain calm, cool, and collected.

With the fragrance of the blossom trees and Horatio’s smile and voice when he was talking about college and the topics he would like to learn about, Hamlet was having a hard time trying to remain focus. At this point, he just wanted to kiss Horatio and hold him and never leave where they were in the garden.

“So, what would you like to major in,” asked Horatio.

Hamlet was still daydreaming, until he finally realized Horatio asked him a question.

“What? Oh, um, I’ll probably major in something with politics,” said Hamlet.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“No, but my dad thinks it would be good for me.”

“I see.”

The conversation went mute. Horatio was back to looking down at his hands and shoes. After sometime, Hamlet decided to break the silence.

“What book were you reading?” He could see Horatio had an old book with him.

“ _Candide_ by Voltaire,” said Horatio looking at the book. “It’s quite funny actually. Do you like to read?”

“Yes,” said Hamlet. “Have you seen the library yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Alright then, I’ll show you.”

 

Hamlet led Horatio to the library. Hamlet pulled open the double doors and walked in with Horatio trailing along behind him.

Hamlet turned around to see Horatio and watched as his eyes grew big and his mouth slightly open. Hamlet figured Horatio had never been in a library this enormous with so many books. The library had two floors with shelves covering from floor to ceiling with books. Natural lighting came in through the large french windows, and there was a desk and two couches and a coffee table with fresh flowers and some books that were left out to be read later.

“What do you think,” said Hamlet

“It’s amazing,” said Horatio. “How does one even read all these books in a lifetime?”

Hamlet laughed. “I’m sure it’s not entirely impossible.  This is probably my favorite room of the whole house.”

Hamlet watched as Horatio began to pull out a book from the shelf and flip through some pages. 

“The books down here are mostly reference books, like science and history. Up there it’s mostly fiction.”

Horatio asked if they could go look and Hamlet led the way, walking up the small winding staircase to the open second floor.

 

Hamlet and Horatio spent for what felt like hours together pulling out books and reading different pages to each other and laughing and then talking about their favorite stories and writers. They stayed on the second floor of the library with Horatio sitting up on the floor and Hamlet lying down. During one of the breaks from their conversations, Horatio eyed a book on the bottom shelf and pulled it out.

“ _The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde-_ this is a great one! Have you ever read it?” asked Horatio.

“Only Dorian Gray,” said Hamlet.

“That's one of my favorites! I love his writings. I use to have this book, but I lost it.” Horatio began to flip through the pages observing a few lines and slightly laughing to himself.

“I love this one short story he wrote called, _The Fisherman and His Soul_.”

“Can you read it to me?” asked Hamlet.

 

Horatio began to read the story to Hamlet. Hamlet listened to Horatio’s soft voice speaking every sentence very clearly and warmly. The story was about a fisherman who sees a mermaid and falls in love. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her, but in order to do so he has to sell his soul. The fisherman does just that and then goes back to the sea and goes with the mermaid to live with her in her kingdom. But, the man’s soul haunts the beach and begs for the man to take him back. The soul then persuades the man to leave the sea, for life on land is much better in riches and wisdom than to live in the water with his love, the mermaid. While on land, the man realizes that his life with the mermaid was much better and returns to the sea calling out her name asking her to welcome him back to the water. Only then does her body wash up on shore and he realizes she died of a broken heart when he left her.

“ _Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears_ … _'Love is better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, and fairer than the feet of the daughters of men. The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst not come to my call. The moon heard thy name, yet hadst thou no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and ever was it strong, nor did aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon evil and looked upon good. And now that thou art dead, surely I will die with thee also.’_

Hamlet could feel the tears forming in his own eyes as Horatio kept reading. He wondered what it must be like to love someone so much and your heart just stops beating once they are gone and you realize you don’t want to live without them anyone. Or better yet, Hamlet wondered what it must be like to have someone that would love him and tell him that they would rather die than go through life without him. 

“ _And in the morning the Priest went forth to bless the sea, for it had been troubled,”_ Horatio stopped reading and looked up once he heard a small sniffle. He saw that Hamlet had his arms covering his face. He figured Hamlet was crying.

“Do you want me to stop,” asked Horatio.

“No, I’m fine. Please keep reading,” said Hamlet not looking up at Horatio.

“ _H_ _e saw the young Fisherman lying drowned in the surf,”_ Horatio was stopped abruptly when the doors to the library opened. Albert entered and announced to the boys that dinner was being served. Hamlet didn’t respond, so Horatio said a low thank-you.

Hamlet finally looked up and Horatio noticed his tear-stained cheeks.

“That's a good story, I can see why you like it so much,” said Hamlet as he began to rub his eyes with his knuckles.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” said Horatio.

“It’s alright,” said Hamlet. He made a big sigh and then suggested that they go to dinner.

 

Dinner was served again in the small dining. It would probably be like this only for a couple more days just to show Horatio that they were a close, loving family, who cared about how each other’s day went.

Hamlet and Horatio entered in late and sat across from each other. Hamlet’s face still showed signs that he was crying and Horatio kept a serious face. The atmosphere seemed thick amongst all the adults of the room and Hamlet could already smell the alcohol off his father.

“What’s wrong with you,” asked Henry to Hamlet.

“Nothing, sir.” said Hamlet.

“ _Nothing?_ What do you mean by that? You look like you’ve spent the whole day crying.” Henry’s voice was raising volume the more he talked.

“It’s nothing dad, really, I’m fine.”

Henry smiled smugly and then looked at Horatio, who was concentrating on eating his food.

“You see this Horatio,” began Henry pointing at Hamlet. “You see this- this is not the type of man you want to be. As a matter of fact, I really don’t know what you are Hamlet. Always crying about some shit. Did you hear today that our country is now entering in a war on the other side of the world? How can I be expected to send my son to go fight for his country when he is here crying at the dinner table probably over something like one of those stupid poems you’re always reading. How can I be proud of that? Really, though, why did I get such a weak, pathetic son? I mean, Gertrude, where did we go wrong?”

Henry stopped and the whole room was silent. No one said anything or tried to stop him. His face was all red from shouting and one could see his heart beating out of his shirt.

Finally, Hamlet broke the silence.

“May I be excused,” Hamlet said in a broken voice.

“Yes,” said Gertrude quietly.

Hamlet got up and pushed his chair in and quietly walked out.

“You’re lucky, Polonius,” began Henry. “At least, you got a son. Because I really don’t know what I got. Huh, could you imagine Hamlet holding a gun and being out on the battle field? I really don’t think he would have the balls to kill anyone. He probably doesn't have those either.” Henry said laughing to himself, while everyone else stayed silent.

 

Hamlet was lying on his bed looking out the window at the night. The moon was shining bright and gave all the trees a shadow and the pond a nice glisten. The window was open a bit, allowing the cool spring air to fill his bedroom giving it a nice clean scent.

There was a light knock on the door and Hamlet got up, cursing the person who was disturbing him at a time like this. But that all changed once he opened the door and only to see Horatio standing there.

“Hello, Horatio,” said Hamlet, softly smiling.

“Hello,” Horatio said in a whisper-like voice. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” said Horatio. “I just thought I would stop by and give you this.” Horatio handed Hamlet the book _A Moveable Feast. “_ I know we were talking about it earlier and you mentioned you wanted to read it. It wasn’t in your library.I brought it with me as well as a couple of other books that you can go through any time. You can keep it, I don’t mind. I've probably read it about ten times now.”

“Thank you Horatio,” said Hamlet. “Here, let me get you one too.” Hamlet left and walked over to his own personal bookshelf. He seemed to grab the first book his eyes landed on.

“This is great one, I know you’ll like,” said Hamlet as he handed _Wuthering Heights_ to Horatio.

Horatio smiled and acted like he never read it, but really he read it about three times and even wrote an essay about the novel in one of his Literature classes he took at school.

“Thanks Hamlet. I’ll let you go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired. Good night.”

“Good night, Horatio.”

Hamlet watched as Horatio walked away and  turn the corner to get to the next hallway heading for his bedroom.

Hamlet finally shut the door and walked over to close the window. He got undressed and went to bed, flipping through some pages of the new book Horatio gave to him. Horatio must have really liked this book, he thought to himself. Almost every page was annotated with notes and some even had side thoughts and little drawings. Horatio signed the inside cover with his name, the date, and what grade he was in at that time of reading.

Hamlet put the book down on his nightstand and then turned off the light from the lamp. After pulling the covers over himself, he picked the book back up and clutched it to his chest. The book was the closest thing he had to Horatio being there with him that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everybody! Here is Chapter 4! I hope you all enjoy it! Before continuing I want say a big thank you to tashisabutt and a guest who left kudos! I also want to thank everybody who keeps reading and supporting this story. Invisible cookies will be sent out to you all. (Disclaimer: there is some offensive language used and a fight scene. Also, all lyrics that are used in the song "Such Great Heights," are in italics and belong to the original works of The Postal Service. The lyrics to the song, "Stretch Out and Wait" by The Smiths are in italics and belong to the original works of The Smiths. I do not own these songs. I do mention a few songs and bands and if you are interested in hearing any, these are the links: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAOoRj4CxpQ (stretch out and wait) and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TD_Q9CxXTo4 (bros by wolf alice). These songs heavily influenced this story.) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this new chapter and thank you again! Chapter 4 starts now...

Hamlet and Horatio saw each other the next day, and the next day after that, and the next day after that, and so on. It came to a point of where they seemed inseparable. Talk ran through the castle of the exact nature of their friendship. Their days started by turning the corners of the hallways and paths crossing while going down stairs to breakfast and going back up those very stairs parting before turning back to their respected hallways for bed. 

No one ever confronted Hamlet about the rumors and nor did he care. He knew what his feelings were for Horatio. It stemmed somewhere between idol-worshipping and romance. From the stories Horatio told he seemed to be experienced of the world. While there was proof that he appreciated the education he received before coming to Elsinore, he also had that street-smart quality to him; he knew what to do in most situations and knew what the real world was like. Unlike Hamlet, who was sheltered in a castle and when he did go to the city or parties, they were always exclusive and safe from any undesirable crowd.

Although the same age, he felt that Horatio knew more than him, and in an odd sense felt safe as long as Horatio was there with him.

May had arrived and as usual Hamlet and Horatio went walking around the grounds of the castle. Just the two of them, side by side.

There was something about that very moment of them together that Hamlet felt the most happiest he had ever been in his life. He believed, though, that the moment would be even better if he could somehow randomly put his hand in Horatio’s hand and continue walking.

The spring was in its youthful days and the sun was shining down. The grass was freshly cut and the birds were chirping. The sky had a nice blue with very little clouds. The fountain with the Greek mythology statues had just been turned on and would stay on until the first frost in October.

Hamlet was wearing a polo and dark wash jeans, while Horatio opted to look a bit uniformed in a white Oxford shirt, with the sleeves rolled just up above his wrists, and dress pants. He felt it would be rude if he wore the clothing he was use to his whole life; usually a wrinkled t-shirt and ripped jeans. Hamlet rather liked how the white shirt complimented Horatio’s tan skin.

The pair were having a nice conversation until they heard an unusual set of voices come up from behind them.

“Well, well, what do we got here?” said a voice.

Hamlet and Horatio turned around, only to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Rosencrantz stared at the two with a smirk and Guildenstern stayed behind him, rather impressed of Rosencrantz.

“Go away Rosencrantz. We’re not that interested in whatever insult you have to say,” said Hamlet, trying to act confident and pretend he was uninterested with whatever Rosencrantz had to say.

“Would you look at that, Guildenstern,” Rosencrantz began talking again. “Looks like Hamlet’s talking back to us now. I remember when you use to just go running away crying if we said one word to you.” They began to laugh their horrible laugh, which hurt the ears of those whose misfortunate was to hear that laugh.

Rosencrantz stopped and eyed Horatio.

“Who’s the laborer,” asked Rosencrantz, now trying to belittle Horatio.

Horatio inhaled a breath and stared back at Rosencrantz.

“Shut up, Rosencrantz, alright,” said Hamlet. “Just go away.”

“Really, Hamlet, are you that desperate for friends that you now talk to the help,” said Rosencrantz.

“Shut up.”

“Hold up now, Hamlet; I think you have been talking the whole time. Why don’t you let him talk or does he not?”

The sun went from feeling refreshing on Hamlet’s skin to now feeling like a nuisance as it made the air too thick to breathe. Now all he wanted to do was escape and go back indoors.

“What is he your boyfriend? Shit, Hamlet, I didn’t know you like being buggered, especially by someone who is dumb and deaf.”

That was it.

It went all too fast for Hamlet to know what was happening. But from what he remembered was that once Rosencrantz finished calling Horatio deaf and dumb, Horatio’s fist went against the side of Rosencrantz face and he went falling to the ground unconscious.

Rosencrantz laid there in the grass and Guildenstern dropped down to wake him up.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” shouted Guildenstern, who was now up on his feet and taking full swings at Horatio. Unfortunately, one of his punches finally reached Horatio’s face and hit him on his nose sending him to stagger backwards a bit and his hands covering the injury.

By this time, Hamlet got involved and was now trying to stop Guildenstern by tackling him to the ground and trying his best to punch him, but it did no good. 

Guildenstern threw Hamlet off himself and got back to his feet, ready to start fighting Horatio again. Rosencrantz was recovering now and having a steady time getting back up to help Guildenstern. Hamlet saw what was about to happen and did one more push to Guildenstern and grabbed Horatio’s arm.

“Follow me,” he shouted to Horatio.

The boys took off running as fast as they could run. The kitchen door was open and the two of them ran in. Luckily, none of the cooks were there.

Hamlet’s back was against the wall and slowly fell to the ground, while Horatio had his hands on his knees. The only noise that could be heard was them trying to catch their breath.

“I don’t think they saw us come in here,” said Hamlet.

Hamlet looked over at Horatio, who had his arm up to his nose.

“Horatio, you’re bleeding,” said Hamlet, who now got back up and rushed over to Horatio.

There was blood smeared all over Horatio’s lower face.

“It’s alright. I’m real sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hit him,” said Horatio, still trying to catch his breath.

“Never mind that. C’mon, you got to get upstairs,” said Hamlet.

* * *

 

 

Hamlet opened the door to the front hall and made sure no one was around the see him or Horatio.

When he was positive that no one was around, he signaled to Horatio that it was alright for them to walk out.

They went upstairs and headed to Horatio’s bedroom. Hamlet closed the door once they entered and Horatio sat down on his bed.

“You need to lie down and put your head up. Do you have any washcloths?” asked Hamlet.

“Yeah, there should be some under the sink,” said Horatio, still using his shirt sleeve to dab at his bleeding nose.

Hamlet went into the bathroom and found a washcloth and a bowl to fill up with water.

He went back into the room and sat down next to Horatio, who was laying down.

Hamlet dipped the washcloth into the water and then leaned over and put it on Horatio’s nose.

“Here, it’s all over your face,” said Hamlet, now clearing the blood stains off Horatio’s face.

“Thanks,” said Horatio, taking the cloth away from Hamlet’s hand. “That Guildenstern’s got a great punch.”

“I think what he did to you was terrible,” said Hamlet.

“Not as bad as what I did to Rosencrantz,” said Horatio. “I should probably start packing.”

“Why?”

“Hamlet, I am guest here. Rosencrantz has more rights here than I do.”

“If you think my father will kick you out because you knocked out Rosencrantz, you’re wrong. If anything he’ll probably be very pleased to hear that someone finally kicked his ass.”

The boys laughed.

“I can’t believe you knocked him out,” Hamlet began again. “Where did you learn to throw punches like that?”

“In my neighborhood, you got to learn how to fight.”

Hamlet could only imagine what Horatio’s town was like. It must be pretty bad that someone so young has to learn how fight.

“I’m sorry about what he said to you.”

“It’s not what he said to me so much; it was more of what he was saying to you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re the nicest person I know, Hamlet. You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that. Besides, I always defend my friends.”

Hamlet now stared at Horatio. If his heart was already beating at an irregular pace with the fact that he was so close to Horatio on that bed, it was beating even more irregular now after hearing that Horatio would practically go on a straight one-on-one fist fight with the rest of world if it meant that he was defending Hamlet.

The silence became a bit awkward and it was Horatio who broke it.

“I suppose I should try to clean this blood off before anyone sees it,” said Horatio.

He got up and began to unbutton his shirt while heading to the bathroom and exposed a bare back once he got there.

Hamlet exhaled a breath and shut his eyes. This was all going too fast, even for him, but he didn’t really know how Horatio felt.

He wanted to know. Over the past weeks they spent together Hamlet realized he couldn’t live without Horatio. If anything it was love; it was that constant glisten in Horatio’s eyes, it was his knowledge of the world, it was that kind smile he gave to Hamlet during dinner when Hamlet’s parents would argue, it was how Horatio was curious and genuinely interested in what Hamlet had to say.

Hamlet bit his lip and looked over to the bathroom. He could hear the faucet running. He got up and took another deep breath and began to walk slowly over.

The bedroom door opened.

“My lord,” said Albert, completely unaware of what was going on.

“Yes,” said Hamlet.

“Dinner will be served in ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” said Hamlet.

Hamlet turned back and saw Horatio standing there, still exposed now showing off his sculpture-like torso, and putting his shirt on a hanger for it to dry.

“What time is dinner,” he asked naively.

“Ten minutes. You can stay up here if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to get a new shirt.”

Horatio walked over to armoire and began to go through each shirt deciding which one to wear.

“I think I better go get ready too. I’ll see you down there, Horatio.”

“Okay, see you down there, Hamlet. And thank you for helping me.”

“It was no problem.”

* * *

 

Henry and Gertrude had a small party that night. They ate dinner as usual, but they were toasting to an ambassador and his entourage, who were staying just for the night.

After dinner, Gertrude planned for everyone to retire in the drawing room to hear some pianist, who was also just passing by and would be staying there at Elsinore for the night.

The mini concert began with a Chopin piece. Everyone listened intently. Hamlet and Horatio sat in the very back with each other.

Horatio put his hand over his mouth to hide his yawn, but it was useless as Hamlet noticed.

“Personally, I hate these concerts too,” whispered Hamlet. “Here, let’s ditch.”

Hamlet crouched down a bit as if to hide himself, so no one would see him leave. Horatio copied him and the two left quietly out the doors.

They were in the deserted front hall again and headed once more up the main staircase.

“We don’t always have these concerts. Sometimes, my mother hires actors to come out and they put on plays. Those are my favorite,” said Hamlet.

“You like theater?”

“Oh, yes, very much. By the way, I finished that book you gave me,” said Hamlet.

“What did you think,” asked Horatio, smiling.

“I loved it. You have good recommendations.”

“I have more in my room if you want to look.”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

It was the second time that day where they were back in Horatio’s bedroom. This time they both took off their dinner jackets, ties and dress shirts, only to reveal them in the t-shirts they were wearing underneath and their dress pants. It was a nice feeling when they weren’t all dressed up and uncomfortable.

Hamlet began to look at Horatio’s book collection when a gramophone caught his eye in the corner.

“Is that yours?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t see it earlier.”

“It was there the whole time.”

Hamlet walked over to it and found a stack of records sitting on the ground.

“We have one of these, but it’s in our attic.”

“You don’t listen to music?”

“Not really. Just the classical stuff and whatever they decide to put on in music class.”

Hamlet began to flip through some the music that Horatio had an interest in. It was music that Hamlet either never heard before or didn’t previously bother to listen to.

“How interesting: Chet Baker, Jay-Z, and Mozart. Horatio, you are full of surprises aren't you?” said Hamlet, smiling and looking back over to Horatio who was sitting in a chair untying his shoes.

“Here, let me pick one out for you that I think you’ll like,” said Horatio.

Horatio flipped through each record until he came across one that he felt satisfied with and pulled out the record from the sleeve and placed it on the record player.

_“I am thinking it’s a sign, that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they’re perfectly aligned.”_

The song had a nice relaxing feel to it and was a good beginning song to what would be the next three hours of Hamlet and Horatio, yet again, sitting on the floor, but this time it was not reading books but listening to music.

Horatio played a variety of sorts. Everything from Debussy to The Beatles to bands that Hamlet had never heard of like The Stone Roses to music that Horatio called, “underground,” like Swim Deep and Wolf Alice.

“Here’s a good band,” said Horatio, holding up the record with 50s-era boy on the cover and the title being ‘The World Won’t Listen.’ “Do you like The Smiths?”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“You’ve never heard of The Smiths? ‘Stretch Out and Wait’ is like my favorite song of all time.”

Horatio put on the record and with an ever steady hand put the needle down on the correct track and the result was a drum beat and an acoustic guitar.

“ _All the lies that you make up, what’s at the back of your mind. Oh, your face I can see. And it’s desperately kind. But what’s at the back of your mind?”_

Hamlet could see why Horatio liked the song. It was simple but there was something about that beat. Something about the delivery of the lyrics in the singer’s voice that caught hold of Hamlet and he spaced out again, forgetting that the world existed.

As far as he was concerned, it was just he, Horatio, that song, and the bedroom were the only things that were existing in the world. He did not know of wars or parties or cities or family. It was just Horatio and himself.

_“Will the world end in the day time, I really don’t know. Or will the world end in the night time, I really don’t know. And is there any point in ever having children, No, I don’t know. All I do know is we’re here and it’s now. So, stretch out and wait.”_

Hamlet looked over at Horatio, who was lying down and full on sleeping.

Hamlet learned that night how to stop the record and turn it off after watching Horatio do it. Once the song ended, he took the record and put it back in the sleeve and set it down with the other records.

He wished he could somehow carry Horatio to bed instead of just leaving him there on the floor sleeping.

Hamlet was hesitant. Instead, he took the blanket off his bed and put it on Horatio and before placing a pillow under his head, he ever so lightly kissed his forehead. Horatio was the very Endymion- secretly Hamlet wished he could stay the whole night watching him sleep; chest rising up and down calmly, not a nightmare should haunt his dreams.

Hamlet instead placed the pillow next to Horatio, in case he should roll over and land on it.

He backed out of the room still watching Horatio sleep.

“Good night, Horatio,” he whispered and shut the door.

* * *

 

Horatio woke up from the rising sun. He was to blame as he forgot to close the curtains. His neck and back ached from sleeping on the floor the whole night. Still sleepy, he looked around his room and noticed he was alone. He picked up his pillow and carried the blanket over to his bed and climbed in. He still had a few more hours to sleep before he had to go wake up and get on with the day.

While falling back asleep, he remembered he had a beautiful dream. He couldn’t remember what made it so special, but he was left with a warm and blissful feeling as he trotted back into sleep.

He awoke again and this time he had to get out of bed.

Once finished getting ready for the day, Horatio went out of his bedroom as routine and went into the hallway that leads to the staircase. A change of plans erupted; Hamlet was not there to greet and walk with him to breakfast. Horatio was alone for the first time.

As he entered into the breakfast room, he saw Gertrude and Claudius sitting together talking amongst themselves and stopped when Horatio walked in.

“Good morning, Horatio,” said Gertrude in her fake manner, which meant to come off as being cheerful.

“Good morning, Gertrude, Claudius,” said Horatio.

Claudius nodded.

“Hamlet has gone off with his father to the city. He has a meeting and wanted Hamlet to go with him. He should be back some time tonight,” said Gertrude.

“Oh, thank you,” said Horatio.

One of the butlers came out with Horatio’s breakfast and he began to eat in silence.

* * *

 

Horatio spent the day by himself and mostly in the library. He picked out random books and tried to learn something new.

He had dinner alone too and headed up to bed shortly after.

It was around 9 o’clock at night when his bedroom opened and Hamlet intruded into his room.

“Hello, Horatio. Did you miss me,” asked Hamlet. He was wearing a fine suit, tailored just for him. Hamlet looked well-dressed and professional, even though he was only 17 years old.

“Yeah, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Oh, it was so boring today, Horatio. I felt like crying and wanted to stick a pen in my eyes.”

“Why?”

“Dad wanted me to see what he does when he goes to city and meets with the other country representatives. They basically eat and mostly joke around and every now and then bring up something about the law and government. I am really dreading becoming a politician. And… what are you doing?”

Hamlet noticed Horatio had his suitcase out and opened on his bed.

“Oh, I’m going home for the weekend,” said Horatio.

“What?” Hamlet blankly stared at Horatio as if what he was saying was a terrible lie.

“I’m going home for the weekend, Hamlet. It’s been months since I have been back there and I know my mother is still grieving over my dad and I just want to see her for a bit.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Just the weekend. I’m leaving on Thursday and coming back Sunday.”

“That’s such a long time.”

“You’ll be fine, Hamlet. Don’t worry.”

Hamlet was so use to Horatio being there that the sudden change felt like he was being suffocated. With Horatio now in his life he couldn’t imagine what life was like before he came to Elsinore.

Horatio began taking clothes out of drawers and neatly putting them into his suitcase. He looked up and saw the saddened look overcome on Hamlet’s face.

Horatio rolled his eyes and stopped packing.

“All right, do you want to come with me?”

Hamlet looked up at Horatio with a new expression of happiness.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure, why not.”

“Oh, that is fantastic. Thank you, Horatio. I’ll go start packing. I know we’ll have a good time!”

Hamlet got up from the chair in Horatio’s room and continued talking and bid Horatio good night.

“I promise I won’t be a nuisance to you, Horatio. Oh, thank you for inviting! I’ll have to get Albert to bring down the luggage from the attic. Good night, Horatio. See you tomorrow!”

“Good night, Hamlet.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I hope you are all doing well! The weather has been very kind to me and I hope it is being kind to you, wherever you may be in this world! I would like to thank histories and a guest who left kudos on this work! You rock, and so do the rest of all who have been reading and commenting on this story. Here is Chapter 5, the newest chapter and the longest. Sorry mates. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! :)

“I am warning you that it’s not the Ritz Hotel,” said Horatio.

The gates opened and the car drove out, en route to Horatio’s home, which was three hours away from Elsinore.

There was no turning back now, thought Hamlet. After all, it would be rude to ask Horatio to take him back to the castle. They were already off the country road and headed to the highway.

“I know, Horatio,” said Hamlet. He hated how sometimes Horatio’s sarcasm would come out when talking about their very different social groupings.

Horatio looked over at Hamlet, who was staring out the passenger window.

“I’m just joking. It’s not that bad.”

Surprisingly, most of the car ride was in silence.

They passed through some towns, farms, and the busy highways.

The sun was shining out and the sky looked very blue.

Hamlet was growing more anxious as they kept driving. He knew by him going with Horatio he would become Horatio’s responsibility. Horatio was, in fact, hoping to go back home and relax, but with a nobleman’s son now in the plans he had to make sure Hamlet was safe and made it back home safe.

“I am sorry, Horatio.”

“About what?”

“That you have to watch over me. I mean, it was my idea and I’m sure you would rather be alone with your family.”

“It’s fine, Hamlet. I don’t mind.”

 _As long as Horatio is there, I am safe,_ thought Hamlet. Horatio told some stories about his life back home and the fights he would get into and the petty crimes by the neighborhood children as well as the serious crimes that went on. Horatio has before referred to in the past about the mention of the mafia.

“I mean, we’ll be with each other the whole time, right?”

“No, I’m going to drop you off at the motel and you can fend for yourself.”

Hamlet looked crossing at Horatio.

“Hamlet, I’m kidding. Of course, we’ll be together the whole time. Don’t worry.”

Horatio glanced at Hamlet and then playfully punched his left arm.

“You’ll be fine. As long as you’re nice to them, they will be nice to you.”

“But, what will they say when they see you driving this car?”

Hamlet’s father, Henry, allowed Horatio to pick any car of his choice to drive home for the weekend. Since the Ferrari was being repaired, the Rolls Royce would have to do.

“I don’t know. We’ll see,” said Horatio, laughing. “Don’t worry, Hamlet. I’ll be right there with you. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Hamlet sighed. He felt like a child, who was scared on the first day of pre-school and all they wanted to do was to go into their parents’ embrace to feel secure.

“We’re here,” said Horatio, turning on the right corner off the busy highway and entering the town.

Hamlet looked out the window. It was an old town from the late 1800s and was last remodeled probably in the late 1970s. It reminded him of a movie they once watched together called _Mean Streets._

People were all along the sidewalk and it didn’t help that they kept looking over at the flashy car driving through. Most of the store doors’ were open and with people walking or standing and talking. They passed florists shops, barber shops, banks, pizza parlors, shops that were foreclosed and small trash piling up at the corners. Most of the business signs had generic names and the colors on the signs were faded from years of being in the sun. Same with the awnings; faded and ripped with age and neglect.

Of course, Hamlet was comparing all this to the stores he was use to shopping at, in which case, the owners were always on top of things making sure everything was prim and perfect.

They left the main street and headed to the neighborhood. Some kids were playing hopscotch and drawing with chalk on the sidewalks.

Horatio slowed down and parked the car by the curb.

They stopped at a brownish brick home that had a flat looking appearance, but extended back. There were two windows on the second floor looking out to the front and a big window on the first floor. The door was just like every other door in the neighborhood, brown with a small window looking out and a bouquet of flowers hanging on by a hook.

Hamlet imagined how many times Horatio must have walked in and out of that door, how many times did he walk these streets or look out those windows. This was home to Horatio, this is were he grew up with his mother and father.

“What do you think?”

“It looks homey.”

Horatio laughed lightly and opened the door and walked to the trunk of the car and began to pull out their luggage.

“Horatio,” Hamlet whispered and was now assisting Horatio. “Will the car be okay?”

“Yes.”

He pulled the trunk down on the car and pressed the lock button.

They reached the door and Horatio pulled out his house key and opened the door. He led the way as Hamlet tagged along behind.

“Hi, Mom, I’m home,” Horatio shouted.

The house was very small on the inside. There was a living room with a couch and two chairs and a table with flowers. In the corner of the room there was a colorful statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, crushing the serpent with her foot. Next to the statue on a table was a picture of a young man in a military uniform like the one Hamlet’s dad wore years ago, with a rosary hanging off the frame.

On his left was the dining room, which seated six people and was very modest as opposed to Hamlet’s dining room, which was quite ornate.

A woman came out of the kitchen wearing an apron over her summer dress. Her sandals looked ancient and her hair was frizzy. She was a bit plump and her skin looked a bit sun-damaged. Either that or her Roman olive skin was fading with age. Nonetheless, she had a motherly look to her, which came off as being tough and experienced yet gentle and kind. This must have been passed down to Horatio, thought Hamlet.

Horatio put down his luggage and walked over to his mother stretching out his arms and wrapping them around her in a tight hug. He was basically a full foot taller than his small mother.

“Oh, Horatio, I’m so happy to see you! I missed you so much!” Hamlet could hear her voice cracking and watched as she put her hands to her son’s face and looking up at him in admiration to the fact of what a fine gentleman he was becoming.

His mother caught eyes with Hamlet, who was standing idly back at the door.

“You must be Hamlet.”

She rushed over and bear hugged the thin boy, who was also much taller than she.

“Thank you so much for all that you have done! My late husband’s wish was that our Horatio would get a good education and become a doctor. That’s still the plan, right Horatio?” she said eyeing her son.

“Of course, mother. All those physics and anatomy classes- what could be better?”

His mother laughed and shook her head at her son’s playfulness.

“Alright. Well, have you ate yet? I just put the kettle on. Come into the kitchen, the two of ya’s.”

The three of them sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and eating cheesecake after their dinner that she made. Horatio and his mother talked most of the time, but occasionally, Hamlet joined in and felt welcomed.

“Hamlet, I am so sorry, but Horatio didn’t tell me you were coming. If I knew, I would have set up a place for you. Really Horatio, why don’t you tell me these things?”

“It was last minute. Sorry.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll find somewhere to sleep,” said Hamlet.

“Nonsense, you’re staying here,” said the mother.

“Do we still have that extra mattress,” asked Horatio.

“No, I gave it away.”

“You can just stay in my room,” said Horatio.

“Yes, that’s what it looks like. I am sorry, Hamlet. I am sure this is giving you a bad first impression of our family.”

“It’s no problem,” said Hamlet.

“Okay. Well, I am very tired and am going to go to bed. Goodnight, boys.”

Horatio got up to kiss and hug his mother and once more she told him how happy she was to see him. She even went over to hug Hamlet goodnight.

“We should probably go up too. I’m so tired,” said Horatio.

They picked up their luggage that was still at the door and went up the small staircase.

Horatio’s room was in the back of the house. It was very small and basic. The wallpaper was of a blue and white pinstripe. There were two windows, one looking out into the backyard and the other one looking out onto the side of the house. Horatio’s bed was against the wall and window, so every morning and night the last thing he would see was the sidewalk and street. There was a desk at the foot of his bed and a small chest of drawers for clothes. Above his desk was a shelf of trophies and awards he had won over his life at school and in sports. He slept on a brown wooden bed with white sheets, comforter and two pillows. There was also a nightstand with a lamp that gave off a light that was equivalent to that of a candle. Either he always kept his room neat and clean or he cleaned it before he left for Elsinore.

“I’ll get you some pillows,” he said as he disappeared into the hallway and came back with two identical white pillows and place them on top of each other and next to the pillows that were already on the bed.

“I can sleep on the couch,” said Hamlet.

“My mother would kill me if I let you do that. That couch is like one of her most prized possessions.”

Horatio began to pull back the covers from his bed so it was ready for them to go in at any time.

“You can use the bathroom first. The door is open, it’s right there. Is there anything else that you need?”

Hamlet shook his head.

“Okay. Where do you want to sleep- next to the window or the side?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll sleep on the side, just in case. I don’t want you falling off and going back home with a big bruise on your head.”

* * *

 

Hamlet was staring out the window, laying on his right side and holding the blanket up to his chin. He felt the mattress go down as Horatio climbed in. Once settled, he turned off the light and lay on his left side having his back facing Hamlet.

“Goodnight, Hamlet.”

“Goodnight, Horatio.”

An hour went by, maybe two, but Hamlet couldn’t sleep. Police sirens screamed all night, stray dogs howling, a drunkard passing and talking to himself. Hamlet moved around in the bed trying to get comfortable. So far, he spent the whole night turned away from Horatio.

A moment of silence and stillness. The night was cloudy and a street lamp seemed to pour into the room.

Another rustle from Hamlet in bed trying to get comfortable and clutching at the blanket.

“The car is safe. Don’t worry,” said a voice in the darkness.

Hamlet looked over at Horatio, who was now sleeping on his stomach. It was nice to hear his voice once more. And with that Hamlet now turned over so he was sleeping on his side and facing Horatio. He finally fell asleep.

* * *

 

The morning came and the sun was out. The boys slept in and got up during the late morning. The day passed with Horatio spending time with his mother and Hamlet reading and watching the television. By the afternoon, the two of them went and got lunch and walked through the town. As Horatio said, everyone was very nice to Hamlet.

Dinner was ate back at Horatio’s house with his mother. Once they cleared their places at the table, his mother bid them goodnight and went to bed.

Hamlet and Horatio stayed up and watched a movie on t.v. It was an old black and white movie featuring Humphrey Bogart. Once the movie ended, it was back upstairs and into bed. And like the night before, Horatio was the last thing that Hamlet saw before he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

* * *

 

It was Saturday and the last full day of their small vacation.

The sun was shining again and they headed downstairs as usual now for breakfast.

“Good morning boys! And a happy birthday to you, my Horatio!”

Hamlet looked at Horatio. He didn’t tell him it was his birthday.

“Thanks mom,” said Horatio hugging his mother.

“Listen, I won’t be eating with you both because I got too much to do for tonight. So, take as much as you like.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Once she left the room, Hamlet and Horatio sat down at the table and began to take their fair share of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast.

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday this weekend,” said Hamlet.

“I know. It slipped my mind.”

“How old are you?”

“Eight-teen.”

“I got one more year. Are you doing something special tonight?”

“Yeah, mom’s inviting a bunch of people over to our house.”

Hamlet nodded and then went back to eating his food.

“Hey, how about we go to the beach today. It’s only about a twenty minute drive from here and it’s so nice out,” said Horatio.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool.”

* * *

 

Horatio drove to the beach and told Hamlet that they had a few hours before they had to go back home for the party.

“This is a secret spot. No one knows about it so don’t tell anyone,” said Horatio smiling.

He parked the car and the two of them got out and headed down the small hill to the shore. Hamlet couldn’t remember a better summer than the one they were having this year. The sun was out, the water was exceptionally blue and the sand was a pure white and not a soul insight. It was just Hamlet and Horatio and that is how it should always stay.

Horatio was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Hamlet noticed the moth holes in his t-shirt and the ripped knees on his once dark wash jeans.

He took off his shirt and began to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. Hamlet rolled his eyes not so much at Horatio, but at his own need for Horatio’s love.

“Are you going swimming,” asked Horatio, once he noticed Hamlet was still dressed and standing there.

“Yes, I am.” Hamlet began to take off his shirt and pants. He looked back up at Horatio and admired his toned body. Hamlet thought of his own self as being scrawny.

Horatio laid out a towel and then rested on it, lying on his stomach and looking out into the water. Hamlet did the same thing with both of their arms touching.

“I would love to see all of that one day,” said Horatio.

“Mhmm?”

“The world, I mean. To go sail the oceans and see different places. I can’t think of anything better.”

“What are you going to do after school?”

“Go to university. Go into medicine, although I would love to study philosophy. And I want to travel.”

“And after that?”

“What? Oh, you mean like get married and have kids.” Horatio began to take small handfuls of the sand and tossing it back into the Earth.

“Yeah, I suppose that day will come.”

“I don’t think I could see myself becoming a parent.”

“Does anyone?”

The silence appeared again and only the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore could be heard.

“Let’s play a game,” said Hamlet.

“Alright. What?” said Horatio, looking at Hamlet.

“You tell me something that no one else knows and you never told anyone before.”

“Oh, God. Okay.”

“You first.”

“I don’t know, Hamlet. I’ve pretty much have told you everything.”

Hamlet laughed. Once Horatio realized he was getting no where with his protesting, he joined in.

“Okay…let’s see…um… half the time I've missed school I wasn’t really sick.”

“We’ve all done that.”

Horatio laughed and began to think again.

“Alright, I got one, but it involves my cousin and I. One time, when we were in the basement of my house, we were looking at my dad’s gun and my cousin picked it up and it went off and shot right above my shoulder and that is how I got this scar.”

Horatio was pointing to the scar that formed a straight line on his right shoulder. Instinct made Hamlet take his finger and begin to feel over it. 

“What happened after?”

“We were the only ones home, so we rushed to the bathroom and put a towel on it and try to stop the blood. I remember he gave me the worst bandage to stop the blood. And to think he is now in the army!”

“Did you cry?”

“Yeah, it hurt like hell. It would have been worse if it where lower. Luckily, it was more of a scrape. All right, your turn.”

“I use to spill ink all over my tutors’ books.”

“What?”

“Yes. I always had tutors instead of going to boarding schools and I use to hate some of the people that my parents would hire.”

“Sorry to hear that. I brought in a jar of cicadas once and let them loose during school Mass.”

Hamlet laughed and pushed at Horatio’s head. They ran out of stories, at least for a time.

“I once saw my mother and uncle kiss,” said Hamlet.

Horatio looked over at him, not sure if he wanted to hear the rest.

“Like a small kiss?”

“No, like the way she always kissed my dad. They stopped because they saw me watching. I think I was eight years old. I remember my uncle came up to me after dinner that day and gave me money and told me to spend on it on whatever I want. He never use to talk to me before until then. Mother also came into my room that night before I went to sleep and she told me that the next day would be all about me and we could go anywhere and she would buy me any toy that I wanted.”

“They seem fine now- your mom and dad.”

“Not really. You’ve seen them argue. They even sleep in different rooms. I know my dad can be hard to deal with at times but that doesn’t mean she should go off with my uncle who is brothers with my dad.”

Horatio remained silent.

“I hate him, too. I hate my family.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. My mother doesn’t really care about me. She pretends she does but I know she doesn't. And my dad is always drunk and when he is he always starts to attack me by calling me names and telling me everything that is wrong with me. He’s even beat me a few times.”

“My dad did that too.”

“What?”

“He use to get really bad nightmares after he came back from the war. He’d start screaming and I remember my mom crying for help. I went in there and he didn’t know what was going. I tried to calm him but he wouldn’t stop. One of the neighbors heard the noises and called the police. But, I knew Hamlet that that wasn’t my dad. That’s not how he really felt about me or my mom. He didn’t mean to hit us those few times. It just happened. It was just that stupid fucking war that did that to him. You know, maybe it’s the same for your dad. He doesn’t really hate you, it’s just something else. I mean, he seems nice when he is sober.”

“Yeah. I don’t know, Horatio. I just hate how I have always felt alone. You know something, I only feel happy when I’m with you.”

 _That just slipped out,_ thought Hamlet.

Horatio looked over at Hamlet and gave a small smile.

“Do you want to go for a walk,” asked Horatio.

“Sure.”

It was only the first hour into the afternoon, so Hamlet and Horatio still had a few more hours together at the beach.

They didn’t walk very far, just up and down a bit, walking along the shore and feeling the water move forward to their feet and retreat back to the base of water.

They continued talking aimlessly about anything and everything. They were enjoying a nice stroll and even collecting seashells when found.

“Do you see that?” said Horatio, pointing to something in the sand.

He walked over to an object that was glistening in the sun. He picked it up, only for it to be a gold pocket watch.

“How about that! Buried treasure,” said Horatio.

Hamlet walked over to him and was handed the watch.

“It’s not inscriptive. I wonder who it belongs to?” said Hamlet.

“Here, you keep it.”

“You found it, Horatio.”

"I know but I want you to keep it. It can be a memorabilia of today.”

Hamlet looked back over at the watch and then looked up, smiling at Horatio, who was also smiling.

“Hey, how about a game of football,” asked Horatio.

“Sure.”

They walked back to where they left their things in the sand and started to kick the ball, back and forth to each other.

They made a goal line with what sticks they could find and enjoyed a nice game together.

Somehow, after a few minutes of an intense game, the ball was kicked out to sea.

They both ran into the water to try to catch the ball that was now drifting away. Hamlet swam out and got hold of it and tried to throw it to Horatio, who was still in shallow water. He finally got a hold of the ball and spiked it with his hand back to land.

They both walked out of the water, bodies feeling dizzy after being pushed by the waves of the water. Horatio collapsed to his knees in the sand as did Hamlet, both facing each other and laughing together at the past event.

It seemed automatic, almost like he couldn’t stop (and nor did he want to); Hamlet stretched out his right arm and put his hand behind Horatio’s head, drawing him in for a kiss.

Did time stop? Did the sun burn out and all the water steady and not crashing and the birds stopped chirping?

That’s what it felt like for Hamlet. It felt as though nothing existed except the two of them.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was simple enough.

They broke away, Hamlet staring at Horatio’s delicate lips and looking back up into his eyes.

 _How I wish I could close his eyes and reserve them just for me,_ thought Hamlet.

Horatio looked down and Hamlet couldn’t read his face.

“Sorry,” said Hamlet.

Horatio looked back up.

“No, I liked it,” he said smiling and bringing his hands to Hamlet’s face, stroking the area between Hamlet’s eyes and eyebrows. Hamlet brought his hands to Horatio’s arms and began to feel them back and forth, up to his muscles and back down to his forearms.

And with that, they kissed again, although this time it was not as chaste as the first one. More so, Hamlet wrapped his arms around Horatio, knocking him down from sitting on his heels and knees to now just sitting in the sand. Horatio could sense the eagerness in Hamlet’s kisses as he felt his tongue now trying to play a role. He broke it off quickly.

“We should go,” said Horatio. Both of their chests rising up and down and Hamlet trying to catch his breath.

“Okay, you’re right,” Hamlet breathlessly said.

They put their clothes on and went to the car and drove home, not speaking.

* * *

 

“I’m just going to go into town real quickly but I’ll be back,” Hamlet said as Horatio parked the car back outside his home.

“You’re sure? Do you need me to go with you?”

“No, it’s fine. I know where I’m going.”

“Where?”

“Just the store. I’ll be right back for the party.”

Horatio nodded and got out of the car and went into the house

Hamlet began to walk away. When he was positive Horatio was inside, he went back in the other direction and headed to the place where he had to go.

* * *

 

It was about an hour later when Hamlet got back to the house.

Already at 6pm, guests for Horatio’s birthday party were showing up. Many of them carrying in food and drinks and other things for the party. Horatio’s mother greeted everyone at the door.

Hamlet said hello to her and she told him that Horatio was upstairs getting dress. He went in the bedroom and saw Horatio looking through drawers to find a shirt. He had just taken a shower and was wearing nothing but a towel that was resting low on his waist.

“You found your way, alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad. I just wanted to pick up something.”

“That’s good. If you want to take a shower, the bathroom is open. I would go now before more people show up. It’s going to smell so bad tomorrow.”

“How many people are coming?”

“I don’t know, a lot I suppose.”

Hamlet smiled and gathered some clothes and headed to the bathroom to take his shower.

* * *

 

 _The whole neighborhood must be here,_ thought Hamlet.

He was sitting in the dining room on a fold-up chair, watching people walk in and out of the front door. There were people everywhere and of all ages. People hanging out in the front yard, people sitting in the family room and kitchen- talking, laughing, eating, drinking. Mothers with their babies sitting around each other exchanging gossip, young men and women outside in the backyard sitting around talking about everything. Hamlet noticed that he was the youngest person sitting in the dining room. The rest of the people were mostly the elders. Naturally, it was the room where all the food was spread out on the table. No one seemed to pay attention to him or want to converse with him. As famous as his family was (or he thought they were), they didn’t seem to notice or care. 

He had a plate filled with food and was for the most part enjoying his meal and people-watching. He could see the window that looked out at the backyard. He could see Horatio standing around with some people his age and maybe a bit older. He was telling a story and everyone was laughing at what he was saying. A sting of jealously ran through him at the fact that those people were in the privilege of hearing Horatio’s voice and that their eyes were set upon him. He was on their minds and they were probably on his mind as well. 

The sun had well set and it seemed that the alcohol was kicking in into everyone’s blood stream.

Hamlet still remained in the dining room with the grandparents and eating cake. He sat thinking about life and the kiss he shared with Horatio.

“You having fun?”

Horatio’s voice brought Hamlet back into reality.

“Yes, it’s a wonderful party.”

“It seems like everyone is having a good time.”

A couple came into the living room and said goodbye and wish Horatio a happy birthday.

“Is this your family?”

“A bit of both- family and neighborhood.”

“Are they your friends?”

“Yes, of course. I know everyone here and they know me.”

Hamlet only had Horatio as a friend. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to enjoy being with this many people and their company.

“Are you going to open up your presents?”

“You mean all that?” Horatio pointed to a large stack of envelopes sitting on the hutch. “There’s really no point in opening up cards and waving money around. We don’t really buy presents around here. It’s mostly something we do for Christmas, but birthdays, it’s cards with money.”

_Strange, very strange_ thought Hamlet. _A birthday party without presents wrapped in colorful paper and tied up in strings. What a simple life he leads and enjoys and how I wish we could enjoy it together._

A drunk man came stumbling in from the front door. Horatio seemed to recognize him.

“I think I better go put these away before someone starts to go through them and take everything out,” said Horatio about the envelopes with cash.

He gathered the stack and headed up the stairs. Hamlet subconsciously got up as well and followed Horatio up the stairs to his room. They went in and shut the door and Horatio went over to his desk and put the envelopes away to safe keeping.

“Horatio, I didn’t buy you a card or anything, but I do have a present for you, if you would like to open it.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about it Hamlet you didn’t have to buy me anything.” Horatio moved to sit on his bed and Hamlet followed.

He handed Horatio a small box wrapped in brown paper and had a white string tied around it. 

Horatio untied it and unwrapped the present. He uncovered a white box and took the top off, only to reveal the gold pocket watch they found earlier together at the beach.

Horatio took it out and began to look at it with a smile on his face.

“I know it isn’t much and I know you gave it to me but I want you to have it to remember the day we had together,” said Hamlet.

Horatio pressed the little gold button and the top of the watch clicked off. Horatio looked at the watch and then saw there was an engraving on the inside

_Happy Birthday, Horatio_

_With love- H._

“I went to the jewelers when we got back from the beach and had it engraved.”

Horatio smiled and lightly laughed.

“I love it. It’s one of the best presents I have ever gotten,” he said looking over at Hamlet and back to looking at the watch. 

A minute went by and Hamlet broke the silence.

“You know, Horatio, what happened earlier today… I did mean it.”

Hamlet felt his heart beating. He was hesitant at what Horatio would say now that it has been a few hours since they kissed.

Horatio put the watch back into the box and then looked over Hamlet.

“And I meant it when I said I liked it,” he said.

They stared into each other’s eyes until Horatio brought himself closer to Hamlet and placed his hand on Hamlet’s face, bringing him in for a kiss.

It was a simple kiss. One here and then stop, and then another one and then a stop, and finally they put their arms around each other and didn’t stop the kiss.

“Hamlet,” Horatio breathed out his name. Hamlet leaned over and began to kiss Horatio again this time more passionately and moving his hands over Horatio’s shoulders and to his chest and neck and hair.

Horatio moved his hand to Hamlet’s back and the other one to his hair. In Hamlet’s kisses, he could feel his urging and was ready to give in. But, first, he had to do something else.

“Let me go lock the door,” said Horatio, getting up and walking over to the door, turning the lock. He felt Hamlet’s hands come up behind him and turned him around and pinned Horatio to the door. Their kisses now as desperate as their breathing. Hamlet tugged at Horatio’s shirt and immediately took it off. Horatio helped Hamlet out of his and they both moved backwards onto the bed.

Hamlet was lying down with Horatio holding him and kissing him. They hearts never beat as fast as they were now in this bedroom in their whole lives.

The party was still going on downstairs, but everyone was too distracted with drink and the music that was blasting.

Horatio moved down Hamlet’s body, leaving a trail of small kisses along his neck, collarbone and chest and back up to his lips.

Hamlet clutched at Horatio’s hair and began to kiss his ear and head, saying his name over and over again. 

And with that, Horatio drew his hand over to the nightstand and turned off the light.

* * *

 

The moon’s light poured in though the window giving the room a nice dark blue color. The music had stopped and so did the talking. It seemed that it was only Hamlet and Horatio together in the house.

“Horatio?” said Hamlet.

“Mhmm.”

Hamlet was lying on his back and pinned down into the bed from Horatio’s weight, whose whole self was lying on Hamlet, with his head resting on Hamlet’s chest and stroking his sides. Hamlet was gently stroking Horatio’s hair and caressing the nape of his neck.

“Is it okay to feel this happy?”

Horatio opened his eyes and looked up at the blond hair boy.

“Of course,” he gently said, smiling and moving up to reach his lips. Horatio moved over and gathered Hamlet into his arms. Hamlet placed his head on Horatio’s shoulder and moved his hand over his chest making little invisible shapes with his finger and tracing his body trying to memorize it. 

“I’ve never felt more happier in my entire life.”

“And I will always do my best to make sure you’re happy,” Horatio said looking down at Hamlet.

Hamlet moved up so he was facing Horatio. 

“I love you, Horatio.”

“I love you too, Hamlet. No matter what.”

Horatio could see Hamlet’s smile in the moonlight and put his head back down onto Horatio’s chest and fell asleep.

Horatio stayed up a bit longer staring out at the empty street and brushing Hamlet’s short hair with his hand.

Before closing his eyes to sleep, he kissed Hamlet’s head and whispered, “Good night, my sweet prince.”

* * *

 

It was time to go.

They woke up, entangled in the sheets and holding each other. The sun poured in the room on that Sunday morning. Horatio opened his eyes to see Hamlet still peacefully sleeping. He kissed his cheek and this seem to wake him up.

“Good morning,” said Hamlet.

“Morning.”

Hamlet leaned over and began to kiss his lips and then moved down to his jawline.

“Do we have to go,” he whispered into Horatio's ear.

“Yes,” he whispered back.

Neither one of them wanted to go back to Elsinore, nor did they want to get up out of bed. 

“Let’s just stay here and make this our home.”

Hamlet sat up leaning on his elbow. Horatio had his arms around him stroking his back and arm and smiled up at him.

“You know, Horatio, I would give it all up to be with you.”

Horatio blushed at the thought of a lord’s son giving up all his possessions to be with him.

“I’m serious. Funny thing, when we were driving to the beach yesterday, I saw a house for sale. How wonderful would that be? We could buy it and live together and go to the beach everyday. It would just be the two of us.”

Horatio got up and kissed Hamlet, bringing him down back onto the bed, so Hamlet was lying down, and holding him.

“That would be wonderful. You and I growing old together.”

“Oh, Horatio, let the world grow old, but you and I will always be in the springtime of life.”

They kissed again and enjoyed another hour together.

They dressed and packed and went downstairs. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes and sweat was still in the house. Horatio’s mother was up, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and had all the windows open.

“Good morning, Mom,” said Horatio, kissing the top of her head.

“Morning, dear. Good morning, Hamlet.”

“Good morning.”

“We’ll stay and help clean up,” said Horatio.

“No, that's fine. You better get going. But, first, I made you both omelettes and bacon and toast.”

“Mom, you didn’t have to do that. You had a long day, yesterday.”

“I know, but I won’t be seeing you for quite some time and I wanted you both to have a nice last breakfast here at home. When does school start?”

“Two weeks?” Horatio looked at Hamlet for clearification. 

Hamlet nodded. It will be nice to be going to school with Horatio.

“Wonderful. I’ll be praying for you, and you too, Hamlet.”

Hamlet smiled. While he did have conflicting views with religion, he still liked the thought of someone praying for him- thinking about him and asking some spirit to watch over him and bring only goodness and happiness to his life. He wondered if Horatio ever prayed for him. 

They ate their breakfast and Horatio pleaded once more to his mother to stay and help clean up the house. She told him no and said they should get going as traffic is always bad on Sunday.

Hamlet and Horatio loaded up the car with their luggage. Hamlet was relieved that not a scratch was made on the car and nobody tried to break in and drive away. He felt very happy that morning.

They got in the car and waved to the kind mother and drove off.

“Well, back to the old house,” said Horatio.

“You know something, Horatio, I’m not afraid to go back, now that I know you’ll be there.”

The windows were rolled down in the car, a bit of music was playing, and Horatio smiled and moved his right hand from the steering wheel and took hold of Hamlet’s left hand. Hamlet brought his hand up to his lips and kissed it and brought it back down to his lap. He thought that Horatio had a nice hand to hold. The roughness from working was there but so was the tenderness that Hamlet felt from the night before. 

They stayed like this the whole way home.

* * *

 

Elsinore seemed much bigger this time when they got home. Although they were only gone for the weekend, it felt like they were gone for months. The castle seemed foreign, especially to Hamlet. But, nonetheless, he remained happy and knew that he and Horatio still had two more weeks of freedom to be spent with each other.

Horatio drove into the garage. He and Hamlet let go of their hands and got out and went to the trunk to get their things.

“Horatio,” Hamlet was beginning to say as Horatio took out the last bag and closed the trunk.

“Yes?”

Hamlet blushed and looked down and couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“I was wondering if we could do that again tonight,” he whispered looking back to Horatio’s face and smiling devilishly. 

“Hamlet!” Horatio said smiling and a bit shock but secretly he couldn’t wait either. “Okay, we’ll see,” he said teasingly. 

They walked out of the garage together, talking and laughing, holding all their bags. 

Hamlet looked away from Horatio to the house. He saw someone standing there, waiting for them. As they got closer, it was Polonius. 

“Hello, Polonius. Did you miss us?” Hamlet said smiling.

“Hamlet, I need to talk to you,” said Polonius.

Hamlet and Horatio slowed down and stopped. 

“Well, alright, what is it?”

“I think we should go somewhere private,” he said, eyeing Horatio.

Hamlet caught on at what Polonius was getting at.

“Polonius, whatever it is that you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Horatio.” He was getting firmer and impatient. He decided during the car ride home that Horatio was now his equal and that everyone would have to treat him with respect as Hamlet demanded it. 

Polonius sighed and looked down.

“Well alright, if you insist,” he said.

“Yes, well, what is it then?”

Polonius stopped again and couldn’t seem to bring himself to say what he wanted to say.

“Hamlet,” he began and looked away. “Your father is dead.”

Horatio’s mouth opened a bit as if to say something. He looked over at Hamlet, whose face seemed to be in shock but more in worry. Next thing, he dropped all his bags on the ground and ran inside. It went by all so fast.

“Hamlet!” Horatio shouted and tried to run after him but was stopped by someone’s hand.

“Let him go. He doesn’t need you right now,” said Polonius. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!  
> I hope everyone is doing well! I would first like to apologize for being so behind in posting chapters, but I haven't forgotten! I have been very busy with final exams and essays, but all is done now and I have the whole summer to post (so stay tune!). If you are finishing up in school, I wish all of the luck be on your side. If not in school, I still wish many happy returns for all of you!. Anyways, here is the newest chapter, Chapter 6. I hope you enjoy!  
> Also, if anyone is interested, I created an 8track that features music that was either mentioned in the story or has inspired this story. Here is the link: http://8tracks.com/beat-surrender/all-i-do-know-is-we-re-here-and-it-s-now  
> I hope you enjoy the music, and most importantly, the story! I would like to thank katsuras and the 5 guests who left kudos. I am forever in your debt.  
> And on to Chapter 6... Enjoy :D

Horatio observed one morning, while still in bed, how the rain came with death. 

It seemed as though that every day was sunny, but with the death of Hamlet’s father it appeared as though the heavens were weeping as well.

Horatio’s back began to ache as he was sitting upright against the pillows for some time, thinking about if the day would be just like the past three: doing nothing and not seeing Hamlet.

He hadn’t seen Hamlet since the morning that Polonius informed them that Hamlet’s father was dead. The last he saw of Hamlet was his petrified face and him running inside.

No one was talking in the house. None of the servants seemed to have any concern. It felt more like Horatio was by himself in the mansion. He ate alone and went to the library, hoping Hamlet might walk in. After all, he did tell Horatio it was his favorite room of the whole castle.

Horatio looked over at the clock on the nightstand. It was only ten in the morning and there were still fourteen hours left of the day that would be spent by himself, wondering around the eerie castle feeling helpless and bored. Fourteen waking hours left until it was time to go back to bed.

After finishing getting dress and walking out to the stairs, heading for the breakfast room, he first made a stop at Hamlet’s door. For the past three mornings he had done this. He would walk right up the door and press his ear against it, hoping to hear some noise from Hamlet.

Hamlet hadn’t left the room at all since the news and that worried Horatio.

 _Maybe Polonius was right. Maybe he doesn’t need me after all,_ thought Horatio. If Hamlet really needed Horatio, he would have called for him by now.

He did not bother to knock or whisper his name. Instead, he walked away and went downstairs.

The breakfast menu was toast and tea, at least for Horatio. He didn’t want to be around when Gertrude and Claudius would be there having their breakfast. Oddly enough, he hadn’t seen them either.

Horatio walked out of the room, biting into the toast and holding the tea cup and went to his usual spot at the library. As he was walking, an unfamiliar voice began to talk.

“Excuse me, do you know where I might find Polonius?” said the voice.

Horatio turned around and saw a young man approaching him. He looked to be about Horatio’s age and was well-dressed. Horatio thought he looked like the statue of Augustus of Prima Porta, minus the ancient Roman military uniform. He was carrying two bags of luggage and rain drops were glistening on his jacket.

“No, I haven’t. Sorry. To be quite honest, I haven’t really seen anyone, lately.”

“Yes, I imagine. I heard the news a few days ago. I was in Munich for the summer and I heard from people just talking, while I was packing to leave to come home.”

“You’re from here?”

“Yes, my family and I live on Lord Henry’s estate. My father is a guard and I go to school with Hamlet. Classes usually begin around this time, but with the death and all, I think they might be postponed for a bit.”

“Hamlet hasn’t left his room in three days.”

“That sounds typical. I don’t know about you, but don’t you think he’s a bit strange. I always thought there was something a bit off about him. Oh, please excuse me, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Horatio.”

“I’m Marcellus. Were you going to join us for school?”

“Yes, my father and Hamlet’s dad knew each other and they arranged for me to attend the final year with you and Hamlet.”

“Actually, there’s about seven of us. Eight if you include Laertes, but I heard he was able to finish over the past winter. He’s failed about two years and was always in our class. I guess now he won’t be back. I heard he’s in Paris now. Word around the castle, he’s a bit of a libertine, which is a bit shocking to know because if you met him you wouldn’t think so. By the way, when are you going to funeral? I always hate going to those things by myself. Going to funerals by yourself is just a terrible reminder of how alone you are when you die.”

“Honestly, Marcellus, I don’t know anything. I don’t even know how Lord Henry died.”

“You don’t?”

Horatio shook his head. They began to walk to the library, Marcellus informing Horatio about the story along the way. His voice remained soft and low until they were well into the library and safe to discuss matters at their own leisure. 

“Well, from what Bernardo told me, he’s my friend by the way and a classmate of our’s. He always gets all the dirt on everyone and he is never wrong, so I knew when he told me of Lord Henry’s death that he was not joking. Well, it’s like this Horatio: Lord Henry goes out to the garden and falls asleep. While dreaming, a snake comes along and bites him and he dies. That’s it; that’s the end of His Highness.”

“Wait, where did you say he died?”

“In the garden, the one right outside here.”

“Hamlet told me that no one ever went into the garden.”

It became clear that after saying that that Marcellus was insulted. 

“Bernardo told me that he died in the garden and Bernardo is always right,” he slowly said. 

Horatio sensed that he was playing with his luck by correcting Marcellus. He already had enemies with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and he didn’t need anymore, especially since he thought that he and Marcellus were actually getting along there for a while. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I was thinking of something else,” Horatio backtracked. 

“No worries. I am going to go home and find out when the funeral is and we can meet up and go together. Where are you staying?”

“Here.”

“Cool. Shall we meet up in the front hall?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, well it was nice to meet you, Horatio,” Marcellus said extending out a hand.

“It was nice to meet you too.”

* * *

 

Horatio was sitting on the steps of the grand staircase in the front hall, waiting for Marcellus. He was wearing his best suit and the black tie that Hamlet gave to him.

One time, while getting ready for a party, Hamlet made a comment on Horatio’s ties saying that they were old-fashioned. “Obsolete,” was the word he used to describe the ties. Horatio remembered how Hamlet actually untied his outdated necktie and put on the new one that was made of fine fabric. His hands were so close to Horatio and his action was rather a bold move, but he made the tie to perfection.

“You look handsome,” Hamlet said stepping back to look at Horatio.

Horatio remembered how he broke off the conversation by saying that they should go downstairs. _What an idiot I was,_ he thought to himself. Had he known that he and Hamlet would have that past weekend together at Horatio’s home, he would have stayed there in his room and not insist that they go downstairs to meet up with everyone. He would have stayed in his room with Hamlet, where they could be alone and not disturbed. _Maybe that’s why he’s locked away in his room. To escape everyone, even me._ Horatio wondered now if Hamlet thought of him as being a burden.

“Nice suit.”

It was Marcellus. He was dressed in the same outfit as Horatio, but his suit looked tailored-made by some designer that Horatio only heard of but never imagined ever buying from. 

“Thank you, you too,” said Horatio. 

“Aw, I hate getting dressed up, especially for funerals. Have you ever noticed how well-dressed everyone is at funerals?”

“You got a point,” Horatio said. Right now, in his current state, he had no choice but to stay friends with Marcellus. He seemed to have lost Hamlet and should he lose Marcellus, he had no one. So, he thought it would be better to agree with whatever Marcellus said.

* * *

 

It was the evening when they went to the chapel. Lord Henry had a small church built on their estate, so they didn’t have to go to mass with the locals. This way they could worship privately.

The chapel was covered with a variety of flowers, sent by friends, politicians, etc. The wax from the candles were dripping down the holders from burning the whole day. A frail old priest was playing the organ as people were walking in and out, sitting in the pews, praying, going up to the casket and placing a hand on Lord Henry’s, bidding him goodbye and God bless. 

Hamlet saw Gertrude sitting on a chair by the head of the casket. She was dressed in all black with a small hat on and a black lace veil covering her face. People were walking up to her holding her hand and stating their sympathy. She was sitting very up-right and would nod when the grievers would finish and walk on.

Horatio looked back around the chapel to see if Hamlet was there, but there wasn’t any sign. Claudius was around talking to a few people by the entrance. 

“I’m going to go up,” whispered Horatio to Marcellus.

Marcellus nodded, and Horatio walked up to the casket and knelt down. As of late, he thought of himself as being a bit of a lapse Catholic, but in certain moments, like now, he found himself praying to God, thanking him for letting Lord Henry to agree to let him stay with his family. Horatio also found himself praying for Hamlet. 

When he began to pray for Hamlet, he finally looked up to see the dead flesh of Lord Henry. Horatio never noticed how much Hamlet looked just like his father, especially when their eyes were closed and at rest. Horatio was surprised when he would watch Hamlet sleep; in his mind he always pictured Hamlet to look peaceful while sleeping, but the nights when he would watch Hamlet, he noticed an anxious, almost terrified look that would appear on his face as if he was having a nightmare and was conscious of it.

In that casket, where Lord Henry laid, he had the same anxious look that Hamlet wore once too many a night. As if they went to bed and dreamt of their secret burdens.

“Thank you for coming, Horatio,” said Gertrude, erupting Horatio’s gaze on Lord Henry’s face.

“I’m so sorry, my Lady.”

“Much appreciated.” 

Horatio could see a smile on her face behind her veil. It was a smile that sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Ah…is Hamlet here? I haven’t seen him, lately.”

“He’s at home. He doesn’t handle these types of tragedies very well.”

Horatio nodded and stood up. 

“I’m sorry again and if there is anything I can do…”

“I’ll let you know,” she said cutting him off. She spoke very mannerly and the smile never left her face while talking to him. 

Horatio forced out small smile and headed back to the pew where he was sitting with Marcellus. 

Once back, he found Marcellus turned around talking to another boy about their age. He looked like the same type as the rest of the boys around Elsinore; well-dressed and overly confident, considering his casual posture of leaning forward in the pew with both elbows resting on the back of the pew in front of him. 

“Hello, Horatio. This is Bernardo. Bernardo, Horatio,” said Marcellus. 

“Nice to meet you,” said Horatio, extending out a hand. 

“Wait, you’re Horatio? Didn’t you, like, kick the shit out Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?”

“If I say yes, am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? Fuck that, I’m going to buy you a drink,” Bernardo said rather loudly and a priest looked over their way. 

Horatio smirked and sat down. 

“‘bout time someone did that to those little shits. Now, the next person that you got to go all “Muhammad Ali” on is that Hamlet. Where is that punk anyways?”

“I don’t know, but Horatio said he hasn’t left his room in, like, a week.”

Bernardo and Marcellus laughed and Horatio forced a smile. 

“Aw, listen, how about we go back to the castle and try that Louis XIII brandy now that the old man is dead and then go to Finney’s Bar. Have you been there yet?”

Horatio shook his head. 

“Well, like I said Horatio, drinks on me tonight. I got to hear more about this uppercut shit that you pulled. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Marcellus and Horatio followed Bernardo out of the chapel. The three of them walked side by side back to the castle, taking the short cut through the library to the parlor. 

“We got to make a toast to our newest member of the group, Horatio,” stated Bernardo. “I’ve been dying to have this drink. I snuck in here once and had a taste. Apparently, it’s, like, one of the most expensive liquors in the world.”

They reached the doors to the parlor and Bernardo fiddled with the handle and finally got it open. They all entered but stopped suddenly as they saw that the room was already occupied by a girl and boy. 

The burning fire in the fireplace made light onto a blonde girl, wearing a black dress, and her hand stroking the hair of a boy that Horatio knew all too well. 

Hamlet’s sleeping head was resting on the unknown girl’s lap. Horatio could see his body calmly rising and falling with every breath. He noticed that Hamlet was dressed-up, spotting a shirt and tie. He wondered if he was already at the funeral or was planning on going but changed his mind.

“Oh, excuse us, I’m sorry,” Bernardo said rushingly and walked out of the room with Marcellus quickly following behind. Horatio left just as quick, but had enough time to catch the girl gently smiling at them and looking back down at Hamlet and brushed his hair with her hand. 

“Of course, there is someone in there,” said Bernardo, when Horatio quietly closed the door. 

“Who was that,” asked Horatio.

“Ophelia. She is Polonius’s daughter.”

“And Laertes's sister,” added Marcellus. 

“Sorry, Horatio, but she’s off limits,” said Bernardo.

“Yeah, if you want her, you got to go through like Dante’s _Inferno_ , Polonius, and then Laertes.”

“He’s got something for her,” said Bernardo.

“What? That’s sick. They’re brother and sister,” said Marcellus.

“I have a sister, and that is not how we dance. You remember, Marcellus.” 

“You've got to tell Horatio that one.”

“You alright, Horatio?” Bernardo said looking at him. Horatio stared at the distant floor in front of him. He could have sworn that Hamlet mentioned his dislike of Ophelia. And now there he was, resting in the lap and feeling the touch of a suppose enemy. _Was he with her the past three days?_

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a headache all of the sudden.”

“You know what’s good for headaches right?”

“Vodka,” Bernardo and Marcellus said in unison. 

Bernardo put his arm around Horatio’s shoulder and walked out into the cool air and headed to the bar. There was evidence of rain in the air, and Horatio was feeling light headed. 

“I can’t believe no one has taken you to Finney’s yet. It’s not high end, but it just has a cool atmosphere.”

“You’re still buying right?” said Horatio.

“Wow, aren’t you a bit eager?”

“Bernardo, I want to get drunk. I want to get very, very drunk tonight.” 

“Must be a pretty bad headache,” said Marcellus.

* * *

 

 Lord Henry was buried at the family’s cemetery.

It was a small procession, mainly of people who lived on the estate. Everyone was there except Hamlet.

Later that night, while Horatio was getting ready for bed, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” said Horatio.

The door was opened by Marcellus and Bernardo. Horatio spent the past few days in their company and it seemed that a friendship was sealed amongst the three of them.

“Did you hear yet,” asked Bernardo.

“No, what?”

“Gertrude and Claudius are getting married.”

Horatio dropped the book that he was bringing over to his nightstand by his bed. 

“What!”

“Yeah.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently. Claudius is going to take over everything, even the widow.”

“What about Hamlet?”

“What about Hamlet? He can’t do anything. He’s only seventeen. And you’ve met him. Does he seem capable of running this place as well as the county?”

Horatio wanted to drop the topic of Hamlet. 

“But, I mean, they just buried Lord Henry. How can she get married?”

“I don’t know...they can. By the way, the wedding is next week. Good night, Horatio.”

Bernardo and Marcellus said good night and left Horatio in his room. 

Still in shock, he sat down on his bed with a million thoughts running through his mind.

He was feeling rather tired and laid down, not finished with getting ready for sleep. He still had to change his clothes and turn the lights off, but tonight he didn’t care. 

He fell asleep as he was and dreamt that Hamlet was next to him.

* * *

 

The wedding happened during the week that school was suppose to start. Classes were cancelled and it was not known when they would start up again. Apparently, Osric was one of their teachers and he was too busy aiding Claudius during this happy time.

_Happy time,_ thought Horatio. _More like the times that try men’s souls._

The wedding was at a cathedral in the city.

Everyone from politicians to celebrities were invited. Horatio was informed that he was welcomed as well. 

He wore the same suit that he wore just last week for Lord Henry’s funeral. 

He drove with Marcellus and Bernardo to the church. Since they would be in the city, they decided that after the wedding they would all go to some bars and clubs. 

While sitting in the back of Marcellus’s car, his thoughts were still on Hamlet instead of the conversation that was happening between the driver and passenger. _Hamlet has got to be here tonight._

It was raining again.

The cathedral was filled and tightly packed. Every light was on and all were candles burning. A full choir was up by the alter. Beautiful flowers of lilies, hydrangeas, gladiolus and other types filled the scent of the room. The alter was decorated with flowers and candles and garlands. 

Horatio pretended that he lost Marcellus and Bernardo in the heavy crowd, but really, he wanted to sit by himself.

There were small pews at the side of the church by the wall and pillars. He recognized that most of the people siting on this side were mainly the servants at the castle. He waited looking around for Hamlet. He looked back at the alter and saw Claudius and Polonius come out from a side door and stood at the alter.

Then the organ began.

Everyone stood up and turned toward the door at the back of the church. Bridesmaids with the groomsmen walked up first, then a little boy holding a pillow with two rings sitting on top proceeded, and lastly was a little girl dropping flower petals down the aisle. The big moment that everyone was waiting for came. Some photographers and people stood up on the pews and began taking pictures. Horatio couldn’t see what was happening, but he figured it was Gertrude they were looking at.

It all became clear as she reached the alter and Horatio could now see.

It was Gertrude in a long elaborate white wedding dress, arm in arm with Hamlet. They both bowed to the priest and Hamlet kissed his mother on her cheek and handed her off to Claudius and went to the pew where he was assigned. 

_How tired he looks,_ thought Horatio. _How sad and thin he has become._ All Horatio could think of now was how he would love to take him away from here and go to a place where they could be safe. They could be together. 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

Songs and speeches and psalms about love were spoken around at the holy alter and professed by the crowd as if they really knew anything about love. 

Everyone appeared happy except Hamlet, who Horatio noticed, could not even bring his eyes to look up at the alter at the event that was happening in front of him. 

“Do you, Claudius, take this woman, Gertrude, to be your lawfully wedded wife…” 

Hamlet kept his eyes down. 

“I do.”

Still staring.

“Do you, Gertrude, take this man, Claudius, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and in bad, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

Horatio shifted his eyes from Hamlet to Gertrude now.

“I do.”

Back to Hamlet, who now looked up at his mother. 

“If there be anyone…” 

Claudius made a loud cough and stared at the priest. 

“Excuse me, by the authority vested in me by the State of Elsinore I now pronounce you man and wife and what God hath joined together, let no man nor woman put asunder. Claudius, you may kiss your bride.”

Hamlet was shaking, while looking up at his mother and uncle. It was the same kiss he had seen many years ago.

He was trying hard to fight back the tears and could feel that all too well that he would not be able to catch his breath once he could be alone to cry. 

They broke away from one another, smiling at each other and Gertrude placed a tender hand on Claudius’s cheek. The organ began and everyone clapped and cheered. They walked out together holding hands.

Everyone was rushing now to leave and throw rice at the bride and groom for good luck. Horatio was pushing his way through the crowd to reach Hamlet, but he left as fast as he could out another door. Horatio went out the door he saw Hamlet go out of, but could not find him. He turned back to the front of the church were the crowd was dispersing. 

“Hey, Horatio, where did you go?” 

It was Marcellus and Bernardo, walking towards him with their hands in their pockets and smoking cigarettes. 

“I know I got separated from you guys.”

“Great wedding wasn’t it?"

“I guess. Are we going out now?”

“No, we’re are going to get free food at the reception and then go out.”

Horatio nodded and walked with them to the car and went to the party. 

Horatio did not know how these people were able to spend their money so freely. The reception was in a ballroom at a five-star hotel. Waiters with champagne waiting for the guests were given at the entrance. A live band was playing and there were more flowers than there were at the church. Horatio was assigned to sit at the very back of the room, while Marcellus and Bernardo were able to sit with their families more towards the front. The menu included filet mignon with potatoes and vegetables.

“And now let us welcome the newlyweds…” said the band conductor to the guests, once everyone was settled in. The band began to play a lively rendition of “It Had To Be You,” as Claudius and Gertrude walked in together, smiling and waving at everyone. Once again, Horatio’s attention went to Hamlet as he followed behind and darted towards to the head table, where he sat next to the maid of honor. 

Hors d’oeuvres were served to everyone, while some speeches were made about the happy couple. Claudius and Gertrude smiled on and blushed at the right moments. One would never know that it was only last week that Gertrude just buried her first husband. Once the commencements were done, the band conductor got back on the microphone.

“And now, we would like to invite the bride and groom out to the dance floor for their first dance.”

Everyone clapped as Claudius took Gertrude’s hand and led the way. She put her hand on his shoulder and his on her waist and with his left hand and her right, they held together and began to dance to Offenbach’s _Barcarolle_. 

Hamlet was in a frozen position of watching his mother and uncle, shoulders hunched, eyes staring, both hands on the table with the fork that he was holding in his left now dropped to the side of the plate as both of his arms went numb.

The song ended and everyone was clapping once more and with Claudius sharing a small kiss with Gertrude. 

That was enough for Hamlet. He got up and left in a hurry. This time, Horatio would not lose him. 

* * *

Horatio searched the whole first and second floor looking for Hamlet, but he could not find him. He went into a smaller dark ballroom that was now used mainly for business conferences. There was a terrace that overlooked the city and Horatio went to one of the doors and gently pulled down on the handle. He was greeted with the sound of the city that consisted of car motors, honks, and sirens. He looked over to his right and saw a figure who was sitting on a bench with his legs against his chest and his arms resting on his knees and head buried. Through all of the city’s noises, he could still hear the quiet weeping.

“Hamlet,” Horatio said taking a step.

He looked up and Horatio could see that he was right. 

“Horatio,” Hamlet whispered. 

Horatio rushed to Hamlet’s side and brought him in an embrace and began to kiss him. Hamlet kissed back and then Horatio began to kiss him all over his face. 

“Oh, Horatio, I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too. I was worried about you.” Horatio stopped and kissed Hamlet again, but more gently. 

“It’s been hell these past few days, Horatio. Absolute hell.” 

“It’s alright. I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Hamlet put his head down onto Horatio’s shoulder and Horatio hugged him tighter. 

“Would you like me to take you home?” asked Horatio. 

Hamlet nodded and took hold of Horatio’s hand.

* * *

 

“You know every time we have done this now, we have ditched a party,” Horatio said while stroking Hamlet’s hair, trying to make him laugh.

It was the first time he would be sleeping in Hamlet’s room. He noticed how much bigger and softer Hamlet’s bed was as oppose to his own. The sheets were also made of better material than what was in the guest room. They had a window open and let the moon shine in giving light. 

“I guess we find parties to be pretty boring,” Hamlet said.

Horatio laughed. 

“I missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Hamlet turned over onto his side and began to kiss Horatio’s shoulder, and stopping and remaining at the scar that Horatio got during his childhood. 

Horatio took him into his arms and began to feel his sides. 

“Have you been eating, love?” He could feel every rib on Hamlet’s torso. 

Hamlet shook his head. 

“I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel like doing anything. I wish I could die right now. Right now, here with you.”

“Don’t say that Hamlet.”

“Why not. Wouldn’t it be great if we died together. Right now, here as we are. Do you think we would go to heaven, Horatio? I hope we’re together in heaven. I wonder if we will be able to understand that we're dead.” 

“I think there’s been enough death already. We don’t need any more.” 

“I wonder what heaven is like. I was always taught that it is absolute peace and happiness. In my heaven the sun is always shining and the sky is always blue. It is just you and me and a small house. We have no neighbors, no one to bother us. It is always summer, and when night comes and the moon shines, we can sleep. I can finally fall asleep.”

“I think we both need to close our eyes and go to sleep.”

“Do you think my father is in heaven, Horatio? Oh, I changed my mind. I hope he is in hell. I am happy he is dead. Now, I just need my uncle and mother to die and join him down there, and then it will be heaven on earth.” Hamlet sat up in bed and was speaking loudly and angry.Horatio didn’t know what to do, so he, too, sat up and stopped him mid-sentence. 

“Why did you just kiss me?” Hamlet asked.

“Because I think you had a long day and need to sleep.” 

“Can you kiss me again.”

* * *

 

The next morning, the skies were grey and the room felt a bit cold. Fall would be starting soon.

Horatio awoke to the light shining in and Hamlet mumbling something into Horatio’s chest. 

“You alright, Hamlet,” he asked confused. 

Hamlet looked up. His eyes were still dark and tired. He gently climbed on top of Horatio and began to kiss him on his lips and then moved down to his neck and chest and his torso and down to his hips. 

“Hamlet, that’s enough,” Horatio said stopping Hamlet and sitting up. 

“But, Horatio, I love you.”

“I know and I love you, too, but not right now.”

“Horatio…do you think I’m crazy,” he whispered.

“No, I don’t think there is anything wrong with you. There’s a lot that is happening to you right now and how ever you feel or have been feeling is completely fine, but… you need to eat and leave your room sometime,” Horatio said taking Hamlet’s face into his hands and stroking his cheeks.

“I’m just scared, Horatio. I don’t know why or what of, but I’m scared.”

“You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not as easy as that.”

Horatio thought.

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know.”

Hamlet looked out the window and began to cry. 

Horatio laid down holding him in his arms, hoping that with every tear and every shake would be the release of every worry. And he could finally sleep peacefully.

* * *

 

It was the late afternoon, early evening when they got dressed and left Hamlet’s bedroom.

Hamlet waited for Horatio to close the door behind him and took hold of Horatio’s hand as they went walking out into the hall and down the stairs. 

“Can you cook, Horatio?” Hamlet sounded like his old self again; playful and lighthearted. 

“Sure. What would you like.” Hamlet stopped at one of the steps with Horatio going one more in front of him, still holding his hand. 

“I have always wanted to know what it is like to have breakfast for dinner.”

Horatio laughed.

“How does french toast sound, then?”

“Wonderful,” said Hamlet, smiling and squeezing Horatio’s hand. “Can you make scrambled eggs with cheese, too?”

Horatio laughed and leaned up to kiss Hamlet.

“Of course. C’mon.” 

Horatio walked with Hamlet still holding on to his hand and went to the kitchen. _This is how it is suppose to be,_ thought Hamlet. 

Everyone who worked at the estate had the day off, so Hamlet and Horatio had the whole kitchen to themselves. Hamlet sat at the counter and watched Horatio cooked. They were talking about everything and nothing. They were talking as if those three days of not seeing each other never happened. 

“Here you go,” Horatio said smiling, placing the plate of french toast with scrambled eggs and fruit in front of Hamlet. “Breakfast for Dinner.” 

Hamlet smiled and poured some syrup on the toast and began to eat. Horatio sat down with him and began to eat his dinner. 

“We should do this more often,” said Hamlet. 

Horatio agreed and took hold of Hamlet’s hand, again. 

“Yo! Horatio!” shouted a voice.

Hamlet and Horatio both looked at the door way of the kitchen. In came Marcellus and Bernardo. 

“There you are… oh, hi, Hamlet. Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” said Bernardo.

“Well, I do live here, Bernardo. Aren’t you home rather early?”

“School was suppose to start this week but apparently that’s not happening.”

Marcellus and Bernardo both took a seat on the stools on the other side of the counter.

“Anyways, why are you stealing our friend, Hamlet? Like I said Horatio, we Romans have to stick together.”

“You’re only half Italian, Bernardo,” said Hamlet.

“Still,” Bernardo was beginning to say, but didn’t know how to finish. 

“Horatio, we’re going for drinks at Cork and Kerry’s wanna come,” said Marcellus. 

“No, thank you, I think I’m going to stay in,” said Horatio. 

“Actually, Marcellus and I were going to stay in as well,” began Bernardo again.

“We were?”

“Yeah,” said Bernardo, eyeing Marcellus as if to say _just go with it._ “Hey, Hamlet, since we are all best friends here, how about we try a bit of that brandy?”

“The Louis XIII cognac?” 

“Yeah, that one. What do you say?” 

Hamlet considered it for a bit.

“Okay.”

* * *

 

What was suppose to be an hour of testing the brandy turned out to be a night spent in the parlor drinking an assortment of alcohol between Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo.

A thunderstorm erupted in the night sky causing the electricity to go out. They all found candles to light and a few golden oriente candelabras to place the candles in. 

Bottles of liquor were spilled out all over the place as they all jumped from different types from gin to wine to whiskey to champagne. 

Bernardo was sitting against the foot of a chair with Marcellus lying down next to him. Hamlet and Horatio were sitting up facing the opposite of them. They lost track of time and were all feeling rather drunk.

“Someone tell a ghost story,” said Marcellus. 

“You tell one, Marcellus,” said Bernardo.

“You start, Bernardo. We’ll go in alphabetical order.” Marcellus was now slurring his words. 

“Okay, what do you guys think, a ghost story?” Bernardo said looking at Hamlet and Horatio. 

“By all means,” said Horatio, lighting a cigarette. 

“Alright, well I shall tell you the story of the ghost that haunts Elsinore.”

Marcellus made a mocking face and Hamlet and Horatio laughed.

“No, I’m serious. If you close your eyes he will appear. Go on, close them. He is a ghost who haunts the village. He is dressed in the army uniform that he died in. His face is hallow and thin and he is very pale. He is six foot seven inches tall and his voice is like that of a tired, weak man. You cannot see his eyes. All that is there are two black holes. And he keeps his hat low over his face. Oh, yes, this is the ghost that haunts Elsinore. He is the angel of death. Should he visit you, you only have hours to live. And once you die, he comes back again and takes your soul with him to the pits of Hades…”

“And he wears a chain he forged in life. He made it link by link, and yard by yard,” Horatio erupted Bernardo’s speech.

Marcellus looked over at Horatio and began to laugh. 

“Serousily, Bernardo. You could not tell a ghost story to save your life,” said Marcellus.

“I see him,” shrieked Hamlet. 

“Apparently, it has convinced Hamlet,” said Bernardo in a as-a-matter-of-fact voice. 

“I see him! By Christ, I see him.” Hamlet was shouting now and pointing a shaking finger to the window. 

“There’s no one there Hamlet.”

A flash of lighting appeared and Hamlet saw the ghost again. Horatio was trying to keep a steady eye but his vision was blurry from drink. 

“Oh, shit, I think I see him too,” said Marcellus.

“Is it… it can’t be.” Hamlet said to himself.

"Look! There he goes," said Bernardo now pointing to the window. 

Hamlet stood up and then ran to the terrace door and hurled the door opened and began to run outside in the rain. 

Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo all ran after him. The lightning was now worse than before. Hamlet was running now through the land that extended beyond one’s means. 

He finally came to a stop and looked up. 

The other three stopped close behind him and obsereved. 

“What’s going on,” said Marcellus.

No one responded. They watched Hamlet looking up to the sky and suddenly he looked back down. Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo took this as a cue to walk up to Hamlet and question what exactly he saw. 

“You alright, Hamlet,” said Marcellus. 

Everyone was now dripping wet and not dressed appropriately for the weather. 

“It was him. It was my father,” said Hamlet, almost in a whisper.

“Hamlet, come back inside,” said Horatio.

Hamlet began to turn around and then fell to the ground.

“Oh, shit, I was just kidding about the story. Honestly, I just made it up on the spot,” Bernardo began to shout in the rain to Horatio and Marcellus. 

“Nevermind that, he’s just passed out. We have to get him inside,” Horatio said. 

They all carried Hamlet back to the house and placed him on the couch. 

“Still breathing,” said Marcellus, checking Hamlet’s pulse. “Do you really think he saw a ghost?”

Bernardo shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Horatio remained silent.

“I don’t know. But, we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” said Horatio. 

Marcellus and Bernardo nodded. 

After a few minutes, they all decided to leave and go home to sleep. Horatio let them out and was now stumbling around. His drunken mind thought it was okay to leave Hamlet alone in the parlor. Horatio clutched to the staircase railing and made way to his room, hoping that the hangover wouldn’t be as bad as he was expecting. 

* * *

Hamlet woke up on the couch and found himself alone. He looked at the clock and it read four in the morning. He sat up and felt a wave of pressure hit his head. He knew he drank a lot from that night.

He walked out of the room and headed up the stairs to see if Horatio was in his room.

He found Horatio sleeping on his side, with the blankets pulled up to his chin. Hamlet walked over to the side and got undressed and climbed into bed, his back facing Horatio. 

Seconds later, Horatio put his arm around Hamlet, who was still awake. 

“It was him, Horatio,” Hamlet spoke softly in the darkness. “It was my father. He told me that he was murdered. That my uncle killed him, and I must kill my uncle. My uncle killed him. A murder most foul, were his exact words. I’m going to kill him, Horatio. I’m going to kill my uncle.”

Horatio moved his hand over to Hamlet’s head and began to lightly brush his hair. 

“Love, go to sleep.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I hope you are all doing just fine. I am currently bedridden from sun burn and thought it would be a perfect time to add a new chapter. Just a little note: to the ladies and gentlemen, the class of '16, wear sunscreen.  
> Moving on to the important details, I would like to acknowledge everyone who continues to read, comment, and support this story, especially galugo, tuinfeest, and the two guests who left kudos! Love you all! I will light a sparkler for each one of you tomorrow. Enjoy, Chapter 7! <3

Hamlet couldn’t sleep that night.

His mind was cluttered with the events that happened in the last forty-eight hours- the wedding, the ghost…Horatio.

He forgot about Horatio, even though he was sleeping in his room with him in his bed. The feeling of guilt came upon him. _How could I forget him?_ He justified his thoughts by thinking to himself that he forgot him because he didn’t have a problem with him. He had a problem with his family, but not with Horatio- his Horatio. 

Hamlet moved his eyes from the ceiling to Horatio. He was still sleeping on his side with his left arm stretched out over Hamlet’s stomach. He was resting his cheek on his right hand on the pillow and Hamlet smiled to himself as he saw a little drool spilling out of his mouth. Hamlet turned over and leaned up on his elbow so he could be closer to Horatio’s face. He began to stroke his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“I won’t forget you, ever. I promise,” Hamlet whispered.

It was still too early to be up, but his stomach began to make noises. Hamlet decided that he would surprise Horatio by making him something and bringing it back up to his room. It seemed that Horatio was always doing something for him. He thought it would be a nice change to do something for Horatio.

Hamlet got up and put his clothes back on and smiled one more time at Horatio.

He quietly closed the door and began to walk through the hallways and down the grand staircase to the kitchen. The nice part of having his mother getting married was that she and his uncle would on their honeymoon for a whole month, and they let the servants go on vacation. He had the whole estate to himself.

Well, that’s what he thought, anyways.

Hamlet reached the bottom of the staircase and heard a woman speaking in a vexing voice. He could hear the fumbling of keys at the lock and just as he moved his eyes up, he saw his mother opening the front door and walking in.

“…at a time like this,” she was saying. Claudius was behind her carrying to bags of luggage, along with the driver who was carrying more of the same.

“Well, I don’t know what he wants but we’ll go and find out,” Claudius responded.

Gertrude rolled her eyes and did a quick glance at the interior of the house before her, only to see her son standing there.

“Hamlet, darling, what are you doing up? It’s five in the morning. Why aren’t you in bed?” She now was speaking in a different voice. It was a voice that she used when speaking to children and a voice that he remembered when he was child: light and sympathetic. Gertrude walked over to Hamlet and began to pat down his bed hair.

“Why are you home early,” he asked.

Gertrude sighed.

“There’s just a lot going on right now…” she began to say.

“We’ll actually probably need you to come with us later, Hamlet,” Claudius was saying as he put down some more luggage and tipped the driver. 

“Where are we going?”

“We got to go to City Hall. Apparently, Lord Fortinbras wants to take over Elsinore,” Claudius said while rushing over to the coat closet and grabbing a hanger for his coat. 

“Why does he want to do that?”

“Well, thanks to my idiot brother, a lot of things haven’t been resolved and some things have fallen through, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”

Gertrude felt Hamlet’s shoulders go tense and looked down to see his hands in a fist. 

“Now, now, now, my darling boy, you just go right back up to bed and don’t worry,” she said while placing a hand on his cheek. 

“Back to bed? We don’t have time to go to bed. Get dressed and get back down here. We have to be in the city as soon as possible,” said Claudius going up the stairs, while taking off his tie. 

“Mother, do I have to go?”

“You heard your father,” said Gertrude, walking up the stairs and not staying to hear Hamlet’s response. 

“He will never be my father,” Hamlet said to himself. 

* * *

 

Hamlet laid out on a couch in the conference room with his hands resting behind his head. He was staring at the ceiling trying to block out the conversations that were being held at the long table a few feet away from him. All the advisors were sitting together, each going back and forth stating their fears.

From what he gathered, Lord Fortinbras, a leader of the neighboring country, wanted to take over Elsinore, due to the fact that the country was bankrupt thanks to Hamlet’s father’s extravagant taste in the finer things of life. Bad deals were made and a failure of agreements all contributed to Fortinbras' desire to conquer the country. Also, Elsinore had complete control over the North Sea, which would be great in terms of trade.

“If he wins, then we all die,” said one advisor at the table.

“He will ruin this country even more than what Lord Henry did,” another advisor said.

“There has always been a feud between both countries…”

“We can’t declare war, we’ll lose.”

“As long as we control the North Sea…”

“Lord Henry, that imbecile, he knew this was going to happen.”

Hamlet turned over on his side, so he was facing away from the conversation.

“Listen,” Polonius said while getting up from his chair. “None of us want to go to war- I don’t want to go to war. Now, I am sure we can come up with some kind of agreement. In his country, they have barren land, whereas we don’t. We can spare a few acres and farms for him, but we must still remain in control of the sea. There is also some healthcare issues and other things that can easily come to a compromise.”

A few murmurs and nodding of the heads came from the advisors.

“I agree with Polonius. We should negotiate peace talks or something along the lines of that within the next few days,” said Claudius. “This meeting is over until then.”

Everyone got up from their chairs and began talking with one another while leaving.

“One day, you too, will be sitting at the head of the table, deciding the fate of your country,” said Gertrude walking over to Hamlet.

“I pray that day never comes. Hear me, God.” Hamlet looked back up at the ceiling.

“Hamlet,” Gertrude went over to the couch and tried to move Hamlet’s legs so she could sit down. He sat up and placed his head in his hands. “My boy, what is wrong?”

“Maybe if you stopped wearing black all the time, you’d feel better,” said Claudius walking over to the mother and son.

“Is that what’s wrong? You are still grieving over your father. Oh, Hamlet, he wouldn’t like to see you like this, you know. He would want you to feel happy and move on. My child, everyone dies. It is just God’s plan.

“God’s plan? What plan is that? How can you justify all the murders and wars and corruptions of the world and say that it is all part of ‘God’s plan?’ And here we are suppose to believe in a merciful god with divine intervention. More like divine damnation.”

Wide-eyed Gertrude looked over at Claudius, as the conversation made an embarrassing pause.

“Okay, well, what do you say we all go out to dinner,” said Claudius trying to brighten the mood.

“I said nothing,” said Hamlet looking up Claudius.

Another awkward pause.

“Well, I’ll go get us the car and meet you both downstairs,” said Claudius leaving. Gertrude stayed with Hamlet.

“Hamlet, I’ve been thinking. I know you are suppose to finish school here, but how about you finish somewhere else like England? There’s a lot of great schools there and I know everything would transfer over. I think it would be good for you to get away for a bit and be on your own. I know I always can figure out things when I’m alone and don’t have anyone nagging on me the whole time,” Gertrude said, adding a small laugh.

“I’ve been alone my whole life,” Hamlet said quietly.

“Well, I just want to let you know that your father and I will always be right here for you if you want to talk. You know we support you and would do anything for you.”

“He’s not my father,” he said again softly.

“He’s trying. Just give him a chance. C’mon, let’s get something to eat. Our treat to you.”

* * *

The sun had just set as Hamlet and his mother and uncle arrived home from dinner. They decided to reschedule their honeymoon plans for some other time until things had quieted down. Hamlet said goodnight to them and headed up stairs.

 _Horatio,_ he stopped and thought. _I have to see him._ Hamlet began to run up the remaining stairs, skipping every other stair and rushing to Horatio’s room. To his dismay, he opened the door to a lonely empty bedroom with just the nightstand lamp on. Hamlet walked over to his bed and began to unbutton his shirt and wait for Horatio.

* * *

 

The time read midnight on the clock next to the bed. Hamlet kept dozing in and out of sleep as he waited for Horatio. He closed his eyes, ready to surrender to sleep until he heard to door knob being twist open. He saw Horatio enter and throw his keys onto a chair in the corner by the door. He looked over and saw Hamlet in his bed.

Horatio looked down at Hamlet and smiled and walked over to where Hamlet was resting. Hamlet moved over a bit for Horatio to sit down. He leaned down and tipped Hamlet’s chin up to kiss him.

“You left early this morning,” said Horatio.

“My mother and uncle are back.”

“That’s not fun.”

“They had me go to some meeting today. Apparently, we might get taken over by Lord Fortinbras.”

“Oh.”

“Are you worried?”

“No. Are you?” 

“No, as long as you're here, I’m not.” 

Horatio’s mouth formed into a smile as he kissed Hamlet.

“Have you been waiting long,” Horatio asked him.

“Yeah, I was getting cold for a while.”

Horatio let out a breathless laugh and moved on top on Hamlet and began to kiss his neck.

“You smell so bad,” said Hamlet, pressing his nose into Horatio’s hair and then moving over to kiss his forehead. 

“Do you think I should go and take a shower?” Horatio looked teasingly up at Hamlet. 

“Probably. You reek of alcohol.” 

Horatio laughed. 

“Where were you drinking? Here at home?”

“No, I went out with Bernardo and Marcellus to some bar a few minutes away from here.”

Hamlet rolled his eyes and sat up.

“What," Horatio asked.

“Nothing.”

“Well, it’s obviously something.”

“I just don’t get why you like them.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“Yeah, well…bears look nice too until you get to know them.”

“What are you talking about?” Horatio couldn’t help but laugh at Hamlet’s delusional metaphor. “What happened? Something happened today. Tell me, Hamlet, what happened.”

“I said nothing happened.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Hamlet brought his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms on top. 

“I just don’t get the deal with you and Bernardo and Marcellus all of the sudden.”

Horatio was becoming agitated with Hamlet’s remarks. 

“Well, what’s the deal with you and Ophelia all of the sudden?”

Hamlet looked up. 

_Ophelia._ The girl that teased him his whole life ended up being the one that stayed up the whole night with Hamlet as he sobbed and talked out his feelings about his father being dead and his uncertainty of the future.

He remembered that night that he was going to go walk over to the funeral. Each step he took was heavier than the last. Everyone was gone, including Horatio. He came down the stairs and was going into the hallway when Ophelia crossed his path. She said hello and was looking for her father. Hamlet suggested that Polonius was probably at the chapel. Ophelia nodded, and then in a kind and sincere voice, she said, “I’m sorry.” And with that, Hamlet couldn’t contain his tears. He began to cry and she rushed over to him and pulled him in for a hug, as he cried on her shoulder. They both missed the funeral and spent the whole night in the parlor by the fire. What Hamlet liked the most was the silence between the two of them. It was nice to be with someone where you didn’t have to feel like you had to keep talking in order to keep the other person from falling to boredom. Hamlet also wanted to be with someone he knew his whole life and who knew him. Who better than Ophelia? They could put away their past feuds. Ever since that night, both of their opinions about each other changed.

“What about Ophelia,” he asked turning his head to face Horatio.

“I don’t know. Do you want to tell me? I mean, everything that you have ever said about her was pretty negative and then all of the sudden you’re close with her?”

“How do you know this?”

“I saw you two together the other night.”

Hamlet grew silent. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course,” Horatio said sarcastically and proceeded to cross his arms against his chest and lean back into the headboard. 

Hamlet looked over at Horatio. He couldn’t stand him being mad at him.

“Horatio, please don’t be mad at me. I haven’t felt like myself lately. I can’t seem to make sense of anything.”

Horatio loosened up a bit.

“Okay,” he said. “I don’t like being mad at you either.” Horatio sat up and began to rub Hamlet’s back, which made him smile.

“I may not be able to make sense of most things, but I am positive I saw my father last night. He was the ghost, Horatio. I swear.”

“Hamlet, you were drunk,” Horatio said smiling.

The other boy’s face became serious again. 

“I wasn’t drunk, Horatio. I saw him. I saw my father and he wants me to kill my uncle.”

“Hamlet, you were drunk. I was drunk. We were all drunk.”

“But, Bernardo and Marcellus…”

“They were drunk too and were probably just going along with it to mess with you.”

“But, I thought you saw him too.”

“I'm pretty sure my vision was not in the right state mind.”

Hamlet looked away from Horatio.

“I know I saw him,” he whispered to himself.

Horatio smiled and leaned over to kiss his head.

“I’m gonna go wash up. Are you coming,” Horatio asked smiling down at Hamlet. 

“No, I’ll just stay here and wait.”

Hamlet watched as Horatio nodded and walked into the bathroom. He laid back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about the ghost and how he was going to execute the plan of killing his uncle.

* * *

The next day was another day without Hamlet for Horatio. Gertrude was taking him into the city for lunch.

It was mid-afternoon when Horatio finished yet another book. He looked over at his nightstand in his room and realized there was not a new one waiting for him to read. He gathered the books and went to the library of the home to return them.

He read most of the books in the fiction section. Today, he decided to change his habit and go to the research department. Books on plants in the Amazon, sea creatures in the Pacific, Napoleon’s campaigns, the philosophies of Kant, Greek ruins, and explorations of South America were just some of the topics that Horatio could educate himself in. 

He gathered a few books that were about obscure topics, such as shark attacks in the Nile River and pirates around Antarctica. Ever since his conversation with Hamlet about ghosts, he became interested in learning more and found a book that was dedicated to the subject. He never believed in phantoms, but was interested in what their purpose was and why people were so obsessed with them.

Horatio brought the books over to one of the tables in the center of the room. He turned on a single light and sat on the couch and began to read the shark book first.

The sun was setting earlier in the day now. The sky turned a purple-orange color, and the wind lightly hit the windows as if it were trying to get into the library. Horatio’s eyes were beginning to close after spending hours reading. He decided to move on to the ghost book, positive in thought that this would keep him awake.

Horatio opened the book to the introduction.

 _“Stories about spirits of the dead that appear to the living are as old as the Lascaux caves.”_ Horatio figured that. He skimmed the introduction and started to flip through the book to look at the pictures, which was unusual for him. He usually read every sentence, footnote, and index in books, but this time that didn’t matter.   

Drawings of people being visited by ghosts appeared in the book, as well as unexplained photographs.

He was looking at one picture of a burning house with a mysterious figure standing in the window when he heard voices coming from the hallway. Natural instinct caused Horatio to close the book and hide behind the curtain.

“I don’t know, my lord, it might be something or it might be nothing,” said Polonius opening the door to the library.

Following Polonius, Horatio could tell Claudius and Gertrude were there as well.

“Well, that always was the plan, Polonius, that Hamlet and Ophelia would get married when they turned eighteen. Henry and I got married at that age, too.”

“I understand, but, in light of what has been happening, well… you understand, Claudius, don’t you?”

“Does she love him,” asked Claudius.

“Yes, she told Laertes she is madly in love with Hamlet.”

“And is he in love with her?”

“I don’t know, but she said he has been so kind to her recently and that he has changed.”

“That doesn’t sound like Hamlet.” Horatio could tell without seeing Claudius that he was smirking. 

“You see, my lord and lady, that the marriage was a good idea, but now I am reconsidering mainly because of what is going on and his behavior has changed so much. I want Ophelia to be with someone who will take care of her and I know Hamlet is a good boy but right now I don’t think he is the right candidate. I’m so sorry, my lady.”

“I understand, Polonius. I think he is just being emotional right now. We have been talking about sending him to England to get away for a bit and be on his own. I think that would help him and bring him to terms with the recent events and he would learn to be himself again. I do ask you Polonius to please wait until he comes back before we call off any marriage proposal.” 

Polonius let out a sigh. “Yes, my lady, I agree. I apologize for overreacting.”

“No worries, old man. Let us all now go and enjoy our dinner," said Claudius.

When Horatio was certain they left, he descended from the curtain. He felt like his stomach was being punched a thousand times a minute.

Summer couldn’t last forever where they lived. Tomorrow would be the first day of autumn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Not much going on here. Summer is going by too fast and I am dreading going back to school :/  
> Nonetheless, here is Chapter 8! I would like to thank Enjwhorelas and the four guests who left kudos! From the USA, With Love!  
> Onward, dear readers...

Horatio climbed into an empty bed that night and woke up alone. As usual, he headed down the stairs to the breakfast room. 

He entered in to find Claudius drinking coffee and reading a newspaper at the head of the table.

“Good morning, Horatio,” he said looking up from the paper.

“Good morning, sir,” Horatio said as he picked up a plate and began to fill it with the food that was laid out. 

Horatio sat down a chair away from Claudius and ate silently. 

“I think Hamlet is sleeping in, today. That’s what my wife told me, anyways.”

Horatio nodded in response.

“Horatio,” said Claudius, now folding the newspaper and placed it down next to him. Horatio looked up. “My wife wanted me to say that you are still welcomed here to complete your education.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Horatio, feeling a bit stunned at the small generosity of his best friend’s enemy. 

“You’re welcome. Ah… what are you studying again,” Claudius asked trying to make small talk.

“Medicine.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Have you started looking at universities yet?” 

Before Horatio could reply, the breakfast room door flew opened and collided with the wall. 

“That’s it, Claudius, that’s it! I’ve had enough of this!” Horatio watched as Polonius was yelling and pacing the room, waving his hands around. Claudius stood up in an attempt to calm the other man down. 

“Your nephew came into my daughter’s room last night, half naked, trying to make violent love to her.”

“What,” said Claudius, whose voice now rose as well. 

“That’s what she told me. He came in, he tried to seduce her, and now she told me she wants to marry him.”

Polonius began to take heavy breaths and finally noticed that there was a third party in the room. Claudius looked at Horatio.

“Horatio, will you please leave us,” said Claudius in a relaxed voice.

“Yes, my lord,” said Horatio. 

He exited the room and went outside. One of the windows was open and he crouched down and sat underneath, listening to the private conversation. 

“Are you sure that's what his intentions were.”

“Yes. What else could it be?”

“That’s probably why he’s been acting so strange. He’s in love.”

“That does not give him an excuse to enter into our property and try to have relations with my daughter. And what about the fact that she is in love with him!” 

“Polonius…look, like we agreed, just give it time and I’ll talk to Gertrude about speeding up… him going to England, or whatever.”

“Claudius, my daughter has her dignity and honor that she needs to defend and it will not be ruined by that idiot nephew of your’s. Oh, he is just like his father; just like Henry.”

“I never want to hear that name again. Do you understand me.”

Horatio’s heart began to beat fast. 

“Now, because you are so worried about your daughter and Hamlet sneaking out to visit her, how about I have someone keep a special eye on him?”

“Yes, I would like that. And this person would make sure he isn’t plotting anything or visiting her or anything.”

“That’s right. Albert,” Claudius said. Horatio could hear the butler’s room door open. “Bring me Rosencrantz and Guildenstern here immediately.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Albert. The door shut again.

“Better,” asked Claudius.

“Much,” answered Polonius.

“Now, more importantly, any news from Fortinbras?”

“Yes, he said he is willing to come to a compromise.”

“Good. Now, can I get back to my breakfast?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, my lord. Thank you for your help.”

* * *

 

Horatio went back into the house, looking for Hamlet.

He found him leisurely walking the halls with his hands in his pockets and his shirt sleeves rolled above his wrists, and looking at the paintings on the walls.

“Hamlet,” said Horatio, rushing to him.

“Good morning, Horatio,” said Hamlet, placing his arms around Horatio and drawing him in for a deep kiss. “How are you?”

“Hamlet, I have to talk to you.”

“What do you have to tell me,” Hamlet said as he slid his hands down Horatio’s back and placed them on his hips.

“There’s a lot going on right now that concerns you.”

“I don’t care what people say about me, Horatio.” Hamlet now moved his fingers and placed them in the belt loops on Horatio’s sides.

“Hamlet, what is going on with you and Ophelia?”

Hamlet looked back up into Horatio’s eyes. Before he could answer, they were interrupted by Polonius. 

“Aw, there’s the old flesh and blood making his grand entrance. What can I do for you, old man,” asked Hamlet, with his fingers still holding onto Horatio.

“Morning, Hamlet,” Polonius said with a nod of the head.

“You’re forgetting someone else,” said Hamlet.

“Good morning, Horatio.”

Horatio bid morning to Polonius. 

“I just thought I would take a stroll around the castle and it just so happened that I encountered the two of you,” said Polonius.

“Yes, well, you can walk away now,” said Hamlet. 

“I will do just that.” Polonius smiled at the boys and walked away with his hands behind him. 

“Have you ever seen a more uglier man than him,” asked Hamlet to Horatio.

“Hamlet, we have to talk.”

“That’s right, Horatio. We must talk. We haven't done so in a while it feels like. Would you like to go swimming? It’s still nice out.”

“Hamlet,” Horatio looked around and took hold of Hamlet’s hand and led him away to the first door he saw. He opened the door to a bathroom and closed it and sat down on the tub. 

“What’s going on,” Horatio asked.

“Horatio, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Polonius came in this morning, screaming about how you went into Ophelia’s room last night and tried to have sex with her or something, and then Claudius said he is going to have Rosencrantz and Guildenstern spy on you…”

“He said that?” Hamlet now sat down on the tub next to Horatio.

“Hamlet, I don’t want you to hate her, but I just want to know what’s going on with us.”

“Oh, Horatio, don’t tell me you think I love her more than you. I couldn’t love Ophelia like the way I love you.”

“Then why were you in her room last night, half-dressed?”

“I had a nightmare and I wanted to talk to her about the day I had with my mother, and I told her about the ghost. And you know I don’t sleep with a shirt on.”

“Hamlet, don’t tell me you’re still on about that ghost.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? It was my father; my real father. Ophelia thinks so too.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No. To Polonius, we were sleeping together, but we were just talking. That’s the only reason I went to her room last night was to talk.”

“But, he said she is in love with you.”

“Maybe she is. We’re suppose to get married, actually.”

Horatio looked away.

“Do you want to get married,” asked Horatio.

“To you?” 

“No, I meant to her.”

Hamlet looked down and back up, away from Horatio. “No.”

He placed his hand on Horatio and began again.

“Horatio, I just need to talk to someone about all of this. I need to talk to someone that I have known my whole life and who knows everyone that is involved and that just so happens to be Ophelia. And that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Horatio put his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong,” said Hamlet.

“I have just been so selfish lately.”

“No, you haven’t, Horatio. I understand. I promise I won’t talk to her or mention her name again.”

“Don’t do that, Hamlet. That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, I don’t care. I am going to do it. No one’s going to tell me who I should get married to. God, who knew humanity could be this complicated. Maybe there will be a day when my uncle will ask me to leave Elsinore, which I will do wholeheartedly, and I’ll bring only you with. We’ll go somewhere, just the two of us and live together ever after. There will be no more talk of Elsinore or Claudius or Ophelia. All we’ll need is each other and we will be very happy.”

Horatio stared at Hamlet, and brought him in for a kiss. 

“I missed your kiss yesterday,” said Hamlet.

“That’s right you did. Let me make it up to you.”

Horatio kissed Hamlet again and then moved down to kiss his neck. He placed a hand underneath Hamlet’s shirt, feeling his skin on the small of his back. 

“Oh, Horatio, I forgot to tell you, my mother said that she has invited the acting troupe to come here and perform a play this weekend,” Hamlet said, breaking the kiss.

“That’s right, I remember you saying that was your favorite,” Horatio said, feeling a bit breathless.

“Yes, that should be fun. I know you’ll like it.”

Horatio smiled and went back to kissing Hamlet. He put his hands through his hair until Hamlet moved from Horatio’s lips to his neck and shoulder. Horatio smiled to himself when he felt Hamlet growing hard against his leg. 

“Horatio,” Hamlet stopped kissing him again.

“Yes, love?”

“What were you saying about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?”

“Claudius is going to have them spy on you.”

“You’re going to have to fight them off again.”

“For you, I will Hamlet. For you, I would die a thousand deaths.”

“I would die two thousand more for you, Horatio.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I hope you all had a great summer! It went by too fast for me, but nonetheless, it was pleasant! I am back in school (yawn) and for those who are back as well, I wish you all the best and a great semester! Here is the newest chapter. I do just want to add a trigger warning, just in case. I would also like to thank the 3 guests who left kudos. I will always compare you to a summer's day <3! Enjoy, Chapter 9...

The arrival of the acting troupe was today and Hamlet could barely hold down his excitement. He loved the productions they would put on, especially the comedies. In his life where there was little laughter, the shows provided a grain of hope that people really did smile and laugh, and the better days were just ahead. Spending the spring and summer with Horatio, this was proven to be true. 

The air had an unusual blistery feel that day and the rain was uninterrupted. Hamlet’s stomach kept fluttering from all feelings of anticipation that the day held. Finally, he came up with a plan on how to kill his uncle. But, tonight was only the prologue.

Hamlet was walking along the narrow corridor, keeping watch for the troupe’s truck. He opted to wear a shirt and no coat, which was a poor decision on that forbidding day. The passageway was the only part of the castle that did not have windows and Hamlet never understood this.

A violent wind came and made him shudder, so that he crossed his arms and began to rub his upper limbs.

The sound of rushing footsteps appeared once the wind died down and Hamlet looked over to see who was about to disturb him. He watched as the light from the torch by the staircase give away the shadow of a petite girl who was rushing up the stairs.

Ophelia made way and stopped at the entrance of the corridor when she saw Hamlet, still holding himself to keep warm.

She smiled and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his quivering body.

“How are you today, Hamlet? I missed you last night. I kept watch for you in my room, expecting for the door to open at any minute. And then you would walk in, and…”

“Sleep is much more important than playing these silly games at night,” he said, sternly.

Ophelia’s smile went down and a look of disappointment crept over her face.

“Have your parent’s talked to you yet? My father did. He has forbidden me to see you. But, I don’t care. I am going to keep seeing you. I love you so much, Hamlet.” She put her arms back around him and held him tighter and tried to bury her face in his still crossed-arms. “Oh Hamlet, oh Hamlet, my sweet Hamlet. My sweet prince.”

Hamlet looked up. He had heard this before. This exact wording.

 _Oh, where is Horatio, my sweet Horatio?_ he thought to himself. He is still asleep from last night’s love making. Still dreaming and undisturbed by the anxiety that the day would bring. Hamlet woke up and left early to be sure to welcome the actors. He needed enough time to inform them the change of their plans.

He unfolded his arms, pushing pass Ophelia, and walking over to one of the windows. Ophelia followed and walked up behind and placed her hands on his shoulder and back. 

“Hamlet, why are you so tensed today,” she asked softly. “Did I do something?”

“They are accusing me of immodesty with you.”

“Well, we never did anything immodest, but I do love you and we’re suppose to get married. Remember?”

“I don’t want to marry you.”

“Hamlet, why are talking to me like this? Why, just the other night you were so tender and kind…”

“I wasn’t in my right mind the other night.”

Hamlet’s head shot to the right of him, like a deer on edge, when he heard someone make a low sneeze.

“I wish you would leave me alone,” he said looking back at Ophelia.

Ophelia seemed to have heard the noise to and looked back at Hamlet.

“Tell me you do not mean this,” she said in a whisper. “Tell me you love me, Hamlet. You can whisper it to me. They can’t hear us if we whisper. Tell me you love me because I love you.”

“For fuck’s sake, would you just leave me alone,” he said in a raised voice.

Ophelia backed away. She saw a change in Hamlet’s appearance, one that reminded her of the Robert Louis Stevenson story that her father read to her years ago one Halloween night. Hamlet’s eyes were cold and wide, and his mouth twitched a bit.

“Okay... okay, I’ll leave you alone,” she said quietly. Ophelia’s eyes began to close and she was trying to keep her mouth shut to hold in the crying she desperately wanted to make. But, not here; not in front of Hamlet.

Hamlet watched as Ophelia ran out of the corridor and saw the light from the torches capture her shadow as she made her way down the stairs.

He looked back out onto the road and field of the front of the castle. Hamlet placed his hands on the windowsill and looked down. The cold rain was dampening his neck and the wind gave him another chill. He looked up and back down to study how high up he was in the corridor.

_“I could end it all right now. I can just fall and end it all right now. Falling from this high up should do the job pretty good. I can end it all right now and not go through with it. It would just make Claudius’s day to find me dead with my head smashed against the ground and blood everywhere. One less problem. Mother would be sad, but get over it shortly. She has a special talent for that. People would come to my funeral, but only to talk to my mother in hopes that they will be invited to the next party._

Hamlet continued thinking until, _“Horatio.”_

_“What would happen to Horatio. The one that would stand out from among the crowd of mourners. The only one who would truly miss me. No, I can’t leave him. Not yet. What if they tried to kill him and I’m not there to protect him. They would do that. They would kill him. This family is full of killers.”_

The sound of a car’s motor was heard through the rain. Hamlet became distracted from his previous thoughts and was overcome with excitement when he saw the truck and “George G.  Byron’s Theater Co.” written on the side. Hamlet could feel his smile sting his face and started to run down the corridor, down the staircase, down the halls, down the grand staircase, out the door and stood waiting in the rain for them to get out of the vehicle.

The truck parked and the director, Voo Voo, stepped eagerly out of the passenger side and walked to Hamlet, with his hand out ready to be shaken.

“My Lord Hamlet, how are you on this beautiful day? You seem to be intoxicated with this rain,” he said, noting Hamlet’s soaked clothes.

“It’s alright. I am going to get changed anyways. Please come in,” he said, smiling and putting his hand on Voo Voo’s shoulder and walking him inside the warm castle. Hamlet opened the double doors and stood greeting the actors and crew as they made trips back and forth between the truck and the front hall, carrying the props and other materials.

“It is always a pleasure to perform here at your home,” said Voo Voo, coming up behind Hamlet and taking off his gloves.

“It is always a pleasure to host you and your theater company,” Hamlet said turning to the other man.

“Thank you, Hamlet. I was wondering if your mother is around by chance. It would be rude if I do not at least make an attempt to greet her.”

Hamlet laughed. “She’s upstairs, probably just waking up.” 

“It must be wonderful to be rich,” Voo Voo said, causing both of them to smile.

They began to walk into the ballroom, where the stage was being set-up and watched as the crew and actors helped each other.

“I am almost certain you will enjoy tonight’s play. We are doing, ‘The Man Who Came to Dinner.’ A comedy about family, love, Christmas,…”

“Sounds entertaining, but I was wondering if you could do something different tonight,” Hamlet said.

Voo Voo looked at Hamlet in a way that said, _“Are you serious.”_

“I’ll pay you extra, and will call the Chico Dining Club and tell them to make you a member,” Hamlet said.

The director looked away and contemplated this thought. He looked at the crew.

“Everyone, stop what you’re doing,” he said. The crew looked back at Voo Voo, confused.

“What do you have in mind,” he said, turning back to Hamlet.

“It’s all in here,” Hamlet said, as he opened a drawer and pulled out pages of typed writing and handed them to Voo Voo. “I would like this play to be performed tonight.”

“What should I do about the fake snow we were going to use,” he said in an annoyed voice.

“You’re a director, writer, I’m sure you can come up with something.”

Hamlet smiled and walked away, leaving Voo Voo flipping through the script and only twelve hours to rearrange the stage.

* * *

 

The plays were always more popular amongst the hosts and guests of Elsinore instead of the concerts or readings.

Gertrude and Claudius invited their friends and people of the State, and the workers of the castle got an evening off to watch the performance. Dinner was served in the grand dining hall. Horatio looked around for Hamlet, but could not find him, so he ate alone. Ophelia was also there, accompanied by her father, Polonius.

Once it appeared that everyone was finished with their coffee at the end, a bell was rung and it was announced that the party was now being moved to the ballroom for the show.

Everyone was in high spirits and joy as they left the dining hall and into the next room across the way.

Horatio was one of the last to leave and made his way to the ballroom, but was stopped due to the line. He could see the red velvet curtains that were hung up and the spotlights shining against it. People were talking and laughing and having an over-all good time.

He saw Gertrude and Claudius being escorted to the best seats of the house, along with Polonius and Ophelia.

Horatio looked away and back up at the stairs to see if maybe Hamlet would be coming down. He remembered that Hamlet told him how much he loved the plays. It would be odd for him to miss this, he thought.

Horatio let out a sigh and returned to his thoughts, until he was interrupted when someone loudly whispered his name.

He looked away from the crowd and saw Hamlet holding onto an door and motioned for Horatio to come over.

Horatio smiled and walked over to Hamlet and shut the door behind him.

“There you are. How are you, Hamlet,” he said taking Hamlet’s face into his hands and stroking his cheeks.

“I am wonderful, Horatio. Absolutely wonderful”

“I’m happy to hear that. Are you going to watch the play?”

“Are you kidding me? I wouldn't miss it for the world!”

Horatio looked at Hamlet. His crazed eyes said it all.

“Hamlet, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Horatio. Everything is coming together. Tonight is the night when all truth will be revealed, and I need your help, by the way. I need you keep an eye on Claudius throughout the show. Afterwards, I’ll come find you and you can tell me what he was doing. I want to know everything. Keep an eye on which parts he laughed at and which parts made him cry or, better yet, angry. Can you do that for me, Horatio?”

“What’s going on, Hamlet?”

Hamlet looked at Horatio.

“Tonight, we will find out who killed my father. Tonight, we will find out if he really did kill him, or if this ghost is a master in disguise. You must go now, Horatio. Be sure to sit somewhere in the back, but keep Claudius in your view.” Hamlet opened the door and began to push at Horatio’s back for him to leave.

“I’ll see you after, Horatio!” Hamlet said smiling and closing the door. Horatio looked back at the closed door and walked to the ballroom. There was a shortage of two chairs, and because Horatio was just on a student’s residence pass there was not a scramble from the ushers to try to find him a chair. He stood at the side of room, back against the wall and a few feet away from the nearest audience member. In a way it was almost like he was invisible. He looked over to see if this was a good view to watch Claudius, in which case it was.

Horatio then remembered that it was the first time when he and Hamlet greeted each other and didn’t kiss.

* * *

 

Hamlet finally entered and walked straight to where his mother and uncle were sitting.

“Hamlet, darling, we weren’t expecting you, but, we’re so happy you came down,” Gertrude said, standing up and putting her arms around her son. Claudius turned away from his amusing conversation and eyed Hamlet.

“Come, let’s get you a chair,” Gertrude said.

“No, Mother, it’s fine. I’ll sit on the floor,” Hamlet said.

“Nonsense, let me get one of the ushers.”

Gertrude moved away to get the attention of an usher, but was stopped by some socialite, who wanted to talk. Ophelia was sitting the next seat over from Gertrude.

“Hello, Hamlet,” she said softly. Hamlet looked down at Ophelia.

“Hi.” 

“Would you like to sit here with me?”

Hamlet thought about this.

“Why not,” he said and sat down in front of Ophelia. 

Horatio was observing the stage and moved his eyes to see what Claudius was doing now. He saw Hamlet instead sitting in front of Ophelia, who looked pleased. 

It was in this moment that it all became clear to Horatio.

_“No, this is how it is. This is how it was meant to be. Who was I kidding? How could he truly fall in love with me when I have no money, nothing to offer. I was a friend. Yes, that’s probably how he felt about me. I was his friend and everything we did together was just that. Maybe he didn’t truly understand our relationship. Maybe I overplayed it. I thought we were something when maybe we weren’t._

Horatio wanted to leave. He began to plan it out in his head. He would walk out once the play started and go to his room and pack his things and slip away. It was still early enough to get any one of the three train rides that left at night.

“ _I can’t leave him.”_

Horatio couldn’t leave because of unrequited love. That was a terrible excuse to tell his mother if he showed up at home with his suitcases. The whole reason of him being at Elsinore was for an education (one that he had yet to receive), not to fall in love with the Lord’s son. In those few minutes before the show started, Horatio realized and reminded himself of his place at Elsinore; to be a student, to be respectful of his hosts, and to be loyal (not affectionate) to the superior’s son.

The chandelier lights dimmed and everyone took their place. A man came out from behind the curtain and everyone clapped. Horatio thought he looked like a man from the Victorian Era.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I would like to give you a little preview of the play you are about to be a witness to. This play is an original. One that is unique, daring, and contains the two elements of all great theater: comedy and tragedy. It took the George G. Byron Theater Co. twelve hours to learn this diminutive story.” The unknowing audience laughed at this.

“I do hope you all enjoy. And now, we begin our story in the drawing room.” 

The audience clapped as the man walked away, and the curtains opened to a lavish setting of a man dressed as a woman sitting on a divan, knitting, and a man dressed in a suit, smoking a pipe by the fireplace. They began talking in stereotypical posh accents.

Horatio diverted his eyes away from the stage to see Hamlet, still wild-eye and bitting his fingernail and watching the play. He then watched as Ophelia did a quick glance around her surroundings. When she felt satisfied that everyone was watching the play, she inched her hesitant hand to Hamlet’s head and began to lightly stroke his fine blond hair.

Horatio closed his eyes and winced throughout the play. Every laugh from the audience felt like a jab at him. He could now understand how the fire must have felt for Joan of Arc, or the arrows that pierced St. Sebastian. But, he must push his feelings aside.

The show seemed to be a hit with the audience. It was about a lawyer, who befriends a boxer and invites him over for dinner at the lawyer’s home. The boxer meets the lawyer’s wife and tries to seduce her, but at first she is unwilling. A love triangle story that included slapstick comedy, and at one point at the dinner party scene, the actors began to throw pies at each other. This went over well with the audience, especially Claudius. He seemed to be easily amused and enjoying himself. During the pie throwing party scene, the lawyer is drunk and stumbles out into the garden of the home, laughing and reciting a soliloquy. He passes out on the ground and is alone until the boxer steps out from the home and takes out a flask from his pocket.

The audience remained silent, smiling, but on edge as to what the boxer was about to do. Horatio noticed how Claudius’s smile was still there but slowly fading as he leaned forward in his chair and watched closely at the scene before him.

The boxer began to speak.

“Good night, sleep tight for tomorrow I will make thy wife my bride.” Once finished he began to pour the liquid into the lawyer’s ear.

A few of the audience members gasped. Horatio watched as Claudius was now breathing heavily and sitting back up in his chair.

The lawyer began to come out of his drunk state and was overcome by the poison and was over-exaggerating the effects of the poison by squirming around on stage and finally letting out a breath and closed his eyes and played dead with his tongue hanging out.

Gertrude looked over at Claudius, who reminded one of a bull about to charge at the matador’s red cape.

“Stop! Stop this right now!”

Everyone jumped, including the actor, who came back to life.

“Turn on the lights! I said, turn on the lights!”

Hamlet leapt up from the ground and Ophelia’s touch, and watched with a smile on his face as the lights came back on, the audience now in hysterics as to what was going on, and Claudius rushing to the stage. The curtains closed just in time before he jumped onto the stage and began to violently find the split of the curtain that led him to the backstage.

“Where is he? Where is Voo Voo?” Claudius’s voice could be heard by everyone. Something must have happened because the curtain came falling down, causing more people to scream, and Claudius holding Voo Voo by the collar, feet off the ground.

“What are you trying to pull?” Claudius was shouting. Gertrude gathered some material from her dress so she wouldn’t fall and ran to her husband to try to calm him down. Everyone was now trying to exit the ballroom.

Horatio went into the crowd pushing past people trying to get to Hamlet. Hamlet found Horatio and grabbed him by the arms and led him away. Of course in a time of chaos, did Hamlet have a bright smile on his face. He led Horatio away from the maddening crowd into an adjacent room and became giddy.

“Tell me, Horatio. Tell me everything! Wasn’t it wonderful! Was he mad? Did you see him run to the stage? He did it, Horatio! He did it! He killed my father!”

“Yes, I saw him,” Horatio said, a bit breathless. “I think we should get out of here, Hamlet.”

“No, we must stay. We must finish what we started.”

“Look, Hamlet, I don’t know about this.”

“It’s alright, Horatio. I have it all planned out. You just have to help me. Horatio, this is going to be wonderful. We are going to prove everyone wrong. That Claudius is a killer, an adulterer, and…”

“Hamlet.”

A voice that did not belong to Horatio came about in the room.

Hamlet and Horatio turned to see Guildenstern and Rosencrantz standing at the doorway.

“What do you want,” Hamlet said in an angry tone, much different from the one he was using to talk to Horatio.

“Your mother wants to see you in her room,” said Guildenstern.

Hamlet looked back at Horatio.

“We’ll talk later,” he said before leaving Horatio standing there. Hamlet pushed passed the scum-bucket “Friends of the Manor” and made way to his mother’s room.

Guildenstern and Rosencrantz turned their attention to Horatio, smirked at him, and left.

* * *

 

Hamlet was ready to talk to his mother. _She saw her own sin before her tonight_ , he thought, as he was making his way to her bedroom.

The hallway to his parent’s bedchamber was the most richly decorated one in the whole castle. Candles lit the hall and gave way to the gold designs on the wall. It was inspired by Henry and Gertrude’s honeymoon when they went to Versailles.

There was a door that blended in with the wall, but led to the castle’s private chapel. Hamlet noticed it was open and slowly crept to look inside.

Much to his surprise, he found Claudius kneeling before the ornate monstrance and praying.

Hamlet could faintly hear his uncle saying the Hail Mary, with his eyes closed and hands fastened together, concentrating on his plea to the most merciful Mother.

“Pray for us sinners,” he stopped and kept his eyes tightly closed. It was like he was reflecting on those very words.

Hamlet looked back out into the hallway. The family’s crest was hanging on the wall, along with two swords crossing each other. He left Claudius to his thoughts and tried to silently get the sword off the wall and bring it back to the chapel.

He did with great success and walked back, foil in hand.

Hamlet stepped into the chapel, heart racing and sword raised. _“This is it. This is what you wanted.”_ he thought.

Just then, Claudius looked up at the Eucharist, and said in a breaking voice, “Now and at the hour of our death.” Hamlet froze.

“Amen.” Claudius let out a sigh and his shoulders dropped.

 _“He’ll go to Heaven,”_ Hamlet thought. “ _He’ll die a martyr and I will be in complete damnation. While his sin will be forgiven, mine will not. I’ll kill a man, who is praying before God and he will be forgiven.”_

Before his uncle could make another move, Hamlet backed out of the chapel and began to rush to his mother’s room.

He entered in with the lights all on.

“Mother,” he said concerned and dropped the sword on the ground.

“I’m in here, Hamlet,” she called from her boudoir.

Hamlet walked into her closet and found her sitting by her dressing table. She already changed her clothes and was ready for bed. She looked completely unfazed by the previous event, as if it was just a little quarrel. She had a terrific habit of appearing calm and collected even in the most turbulent of times. This made Hamlet very angry at how relaxed she was when he was making such a statement.

“Hello, Hamlet,” she said, giving him a small smile and using her gentle voice, the one he was most use to. “My son, won’t you please come here,” she said, holding out her hand. 

“What for,” he said

“Because I want to talk to you.”

“I’m done talking.” He was breathing heavily.

“Well, we’ll just talk for a bit and then you can go to bed.”

“I will not be sleeping tonight, and I don’t think you should either.”

Gertrude’s smile went down and she let out a sigh.

“Darling, what happened tonight? Mr. Rostova said that you came to him this morning and told him you wanted him to put on tonight’s play. He said you gave him a lot of money.”

“Mr. Rostova needs to shut up.”

“He had every right to tell us what you did because what you did was wrong. Your father and I are very concerned with you right now…”

“Would you stop calling him my father!” Hamlet began to shout and put his hands on his head and turned back to his mother. Gertrude sat up.

“Stop calling him that! He’s not my fucking father. He never has and never will be!”

Hamlet’s chest was heaving up and down and his eyes became red.

Gertrude looked down at her hands and let out a breath.

“Hamlet, um… your uncle and I… well… we believe that…” Gertrude was struggling to get the words out. “Is there something going on between you and Horatio, or is he telling you these things,” she asked now standing up and walking over to her son. “You know, you can tell me. I won’t be mad. I just want to be here to help…”

“Are you going to take him away from me, too.” Hamlet’s eyes were now searching his mother’s face for an answer.

“No, no, Hamlet. That’s not what we are going to do. But, I just want to know because Claudius said that you are back on bad terms with Ophelia, and I just want to know if Horatio is filling your head with these ideas, or if you’re having relations with him…”

“What does Claudius know about me and Ophelia? What does he know about anything?”

“He said he saw you both in the corridor earlier today…”

“He’s spying on me now.

“Hamlet, I just want you to be honest with me,” Gertrude said, now becoming stern.

“I am being honest with you. And no matter what I say, you’re going to take him away from me because that’s all you ever do. You just take away everything that I love and you just break it down and kill it. You took away my father and now you want to take away my best friend! You took away my own childhood! I saw you and Claudius together. You were always together!”

“Hamlet, I understand your frustration about the remarriage, but what’s more important right now is that you’re having this relationship with Horatio. Hamlet, you know it’s a sin!”

“Sin?” Hamlet had to laugh at that. “You stand here before me and tell me that my love for Horatio is a sin, when you sleep with that bastard on that bastard bed every night? I mean, you committing adultery with a murderer is much more of a sin than mine will ever be.”

“Oh, Hamlet! Stop it! Stop it!” Gertrude grabbed hold of Hamlet’s shoulders and began to shake him back and forth.

“Why? Because you know what I am saying is true! I know how dad died! Claudius killed him and you were in on it too! How could you do that him?” Hamlet began shouting more at Gertrude, until there was a movement behind the tapestry in the boudoir. The curtain was of a printing of Titian’s _The Rape of Europa._ Hamlet looked back at his mother, who was now petrified. Hamlet moved out of her arms and went over to the vanity and picked up a letter-opener knife.

“He ended my father’s life. Now, I end his.”

“Hamlet, don’t. Don’t!”

She couldn’t stop him. Hamlet ran over to the tapestry and began thrashing and tearing as brutally as he could. Gertrude fell to the ground and started screaming and crying. Once the figure stopped trying to defend its self, Hamlet moved the curtain only to find, to his surprise, Polonius, laying on the floor, dead. 

Hamlet starred down and dropped the knife. He was now a murderer.

“Did you know this,” he softly asked, turning to his mother.

Gertrude was starring back and forth, wide-eye, at Hamlet and Polonius’s dead body.

“I said, did you know about this?” Hamlet was now walking over to his mother, who was creeping herself away from him until her back came against the wall. Hamlet dropped to his knees and took his mother’s face into his hands. Gertrude was shaking, now afraid of her own son.

“Tell me,” Hamlet began to say. He couldn’t contain his tears, either. “Tell me, that you don’t love Claud,” his voice began to break. “Tell me, you only ever loved my father.”

Gertrude began to shake her head and started crying. “Oh, Hamlet. If you only knew the whole story.”

Hamlet closed his eyes and tried to hold back any more tears from streaming down his face. He got back up and turned to Polonius.

“I should probably take him away before Claudius sees.”

Gertrude didn’t respond.

Hamlet walked over to the dead old man and rolled his body into the tapestry. He began to drag him out and disappeared into the hallway.

* * *

 

Gertrude remained on the floor, starring vacantly at the crime scene of knocked over furniture, unfinished drywall, and blood.

“Gertrude.” It was Claudius. “Gertrude,” he called again.

She didn’t look up when he appeared at the door entrance.

“My God,” he said horrified. “What happened?”

Claudius looked down at his wife and paced over to her, kneeling before her and taking her numb shoulders into his hands. “Gertrude. Gertrude, speak to me. What happened?”

She began to shake in his arms. “Hamlet did this didn’t he? He did this? Oh, Christ in Heaven, he did this!”

Claudius looked away and back to think.

“We have to get rid of him. We have to send him away or something. Tomorrow, yes, tomorrow, we will send him away to England. We’ll send him away with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. You understand, Gertrude, he can’t stay here. We don’t know what he is going to do next. He can’t stay here anymore, Gertrude!”

And with that, Gertrude fell motionless into her husband's arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Here is the newest chapter! Enjoy! :D

Horatio went back to his room, but could not sleep.

He tossed and turned, feeling too warm for the coverings of the blanket, but it provided some sort of security, which he felt was needed after that night.

He must have been only asleep for an hour or two when he finally could sense the blue dawn light entering his room.

He awoke to another cloudy, misty day. Horatio walked over to his window to look out to the estate of Elsinore. Down below, he could see Marcellus pacing through the fog and heading to the fence. He noticed that Marcellus was carrying two small suitcases.

Horatio didn’t wait another minute and grabbed his jacket and ran down the back stairs and went outside.

“Marcellus,” Horatio called.

Marcellus looked back and began walking faster, almost running, until he came to a tree and hid from Horatio.

“What are you doing,” said Horatio, once he reached the tree.

“I’m running away,” said Marcellus. He had a terrified look on his face and his eyes darted around to see if anyone was following him. Marcellus’s aura was reminiscent of when Adam was hiding from God.

“Why? Where is Bernardo?”

“He’s waiting for me at the train station. He forgot his suitcases, so I came back to get them. Damn, it’s so cold out here.”

“Why are you leaving?”

“It’s not safe here, Horatio. Not after last night.”

“What are you talking about? You mean what happened at the play?”

“You didn’t hear?”

Horatio’s stomach began to flutter.

“No, what, tell me.”

Marcellus exhaled and his breath gave away a white color.

“Hamlet killed Polonius.”

The feeling of butterflies in his stomach finally dropped dead at those words.

“What?”

“Apparently, he was in his mother’s room and he thought Claudius was hiding behind that tapestry. He took a knife or something and just started stabbing like crazy.”

Horatio found some way to stand still through Marcellus’s story.

“His mom, like, dropped to the floor and passed out, and Hamlet realized it was Polonius and took him and hid him. Claudius found out and then woke me and Bernardo up. It was us and Guildenstern and Rosencrantz, and Claudius made us go search the house for Polonius’s body and Hamlet. He sent Bernardo and I to find Polonius, and Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go find Hamlet. We looked everywhere and finally found Polonius in a stable. God, you wouldn’t know it was him. His body was completely mutilated. Guildenstern and Rosencrantz found Hamlet up in the highest corridor, sleeping out in the cold. They knocked him out, apparently, and are taking him to England. If you ask me, though, I doubt he will even see England, knowing Claudius.”

Horatio felt himself go into a daze.

“Why,” was all he could breathe out. Marcellus drew in a breath.

“Look, Horatio. I like you, and I think I understand the relationship between you and Hamlet, but if you want my advice, I’m telling you to run. You should probably go back inside and pack your things and get out of here as soon as possible. It’s not safe here anymore. I mean, I would invite you to go along with me and Bernardo, but it might make things even more unsafe. Horatio, I know Claudius. Do I think he killed Lord Henry? In all honestly, I wouldn’t doubt it and probably place money on it. Horatio, what I’m getting at is that it’s not safe for you here anymore, especially since now that Hamlet’s away. Knowing Claudius and seeing him in this condition, it wouldn’t shock me if he kills you. You’re allies with Hamlet and he sees you as a threat, as someone who might revolt against him once he finds out that you know that he killed Hamlet. He’s going to kill Hamlet. He sent Guildenstern and Rosencrantz to ‘accompany’ him to some school in England, but really, Claudius hired someone who is waiting for Hamlet at Liverpool and he is going to ‘quietly’ kill him. And the reason Bernardo and I are leaving is that with all that is going on here at the castle and the fact that some citizens of Elsinore are ready to revolt against Lord Claudius, well, I can tell you right now, we’re not sticking around for that.”

“I have to warn him,” Horatio whispered.

“You don’t have time. They already left. Really, Horatio, he’s not coming back. You can’t wait here for him. It’s dangerous here and I’m telling you, go back into the castle and get your things and go. They won’t come after you if you runaway.”

 _He’s not coming back._ Those words sent a dagger through Horatio’s heart. They didn’t even say goodbye. The last memory Horatio had of Hamlet was him leaving to go talk to his mother. _“We’ll talk later,”_ Horatio remembered that Hamlet had a smile on when he said those words with such confidence that they would meet again to talk.

“You’re right,” was all Horatio could get out.

There was a short silence between the two young men.

“If you want, we can meet up at the train station and help…” Marcellus didn’t finish what he was going to say. They became distracted by the sound of a loud car motor. Both heads turned to the gates of Elsinore as they opened up to some black exotic sports car that began speeding down the gravel path to the front door of the castle.

“Get down,” Marcellus said, as he put his hand on Horatio’s shoulder to lower themselves down, still hiding behind the tree.

The car came to an abrupt stop at the driveway, and the driver’s door swung open.

“Oh, shit,” said Marcellus looking back at the house.

A tall, young man with a sleek haircut, wearing sunglasses and expensive shoes and the finest material attire could put forth, stepped out of the car. He was wearing a camel-color hair coat over his clothes, and slammed the door of his car and began to stride to the doors of the castle. Marcellus and Horatio didn’t even hear him lock his car.

“Who is that,” asked Horatio.

“Laertes.”

* * *

 

Before Polonius’s death, Hell was unaware of the extent of fury that ran deep in the veins of Laertes. He heard the news of his father’s death and had now changed from being a carefree, promiscuous expatriate living in Paris, to full bloodthirsty, revenge seeking, maniac.

He pushed open the door to the castle and began opening the different doors in the front hall.

He opened the one that led to the grand dining hall, only to see a single candelabrum lit in the center of the immense table and Claudius, sitting by himself, drinking brandy from the crystal glass container. He was still wearing the clothes he wore at the play, with a five o’clock shadow on his face and his hair falling damp on his forehead. He was slumped in the chair with his hand covering his eyes, but was startled when he heard the door open and saw Laertes standing there and breathing hard.

“Where is he,” he said.

Claudius held his breath.

“Where is he,” Laertes repeated again while walking over to Claudius. “I said, where is he!”

Laertes seized Claudius by his collar and brought him up on his feet.

“He’s on a boat to England,” shouted Claudius.

“What’s he doing on a boat,” Laertes said, still shouting and bringing Claudius back down into his chair.

“I’m sending him on a boat to England with Guildenstern and Rosencrantz. I hired a man to kill him once he reaches Liverpool.”

“That’s not enough, Claudius. Bring him back here. I want to kill him myself.”

“I can’t, Laertes. They have been gone for hours. He’s going to die. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Laertes put his hands on hips and began walking back and forth.

“If I had only arrive sooner. If you only waited for me to leave Paris and come here while he was still around. I could just kill him.”

“I know, I understand…”

“No, you don’t understand Claudius! That fucking bastard killed my father! My father! Polonius was a great man, a respected man, known by the top leaders of the world and has been recognized for his accomplishments. When great men, like him, die they are honored by the world and the world mourns. But, no, what does my father get? A dismembered body and horse’s shithouse for a deathbed.”

“I’m very sorry, Laertes. I really don’t know what to say.”

Laertes kept pacing back and forth without taking his eyes off of Claudius.

“When will you be hearing from this hitman of yours?”

“Soon, I hope. I told him to call me once the job was done.”

“I’m not happy about this.”

“I know you aren’t.”

Laertes let out a breath. “Where is my sister?”

“In her room, at your father’s apartment, probably.”

“Does she know?”

“I don’t think so. Gertrude was going to go over there later and help her with whatever she needs.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I am going to tell her myself.”

* * *

 

Horatio bid Marcellus goodbye and went hurrying back to his room at the castle.

He grabbed his suitcase under the bed and began to throw clothes and books in it. He was going so fast, he couldn’t think, until his rationality grabbed hold of his conscience did he finally stop and let out a sigh and sat down on his bed.

Horatio put his hands on his head and balanced his elbows on his knees. Trying to calm himself down through deep breathing, he heard someone singing down the hallway outside his room.

It was a girl’s voice, nymph sounding. Horatio walked over to his door and slightly opened it and peaked outside. He saw Ophelia, still dressed in her white nightgown, holding onto the skirt-part of her dress, and swaying back and forth, singing.

_“I wonder_

_I wonder_

_If my heart keeps singing_

_Will my song go winging_

_To someone who will find me_

_And bring back a love song to me.”_

Horatio watched as she began to twirl around the hall, and finally caught Horatio’s eyes through the crack of his door.

“Hello, there,” she said kindly.

Horatio went back into his room and watched as Ophelia opened his door and walked in.

“What is your name?”

Horatio shook his head.

“I know! You must be Hyperion. The Greek God of Watchfulness, Wisdom, and Light. You’re very beautiful, you know.” Ophelia smiled at Horatio. This was the first time they ever talked to each other.

“You must be, Ophelia,” said Horatio.

“I was, but not anymore,” she giggled and began to twirl around his room. Horatio backed away to the window, watching this bizarre scene before him. Ophelia began to talk but in a sing-song voice. She seemed to only be talking her thoughts out and was not directing them to Horatio.

“Oh, my father’s dead and my love has been taken away from me. I wonder what will happen next!” She smiled.

Ophelia stopped and turned around looking at Horatio.

“Have you ever been in love,” she asked.

Horatio nodded.

“What happened?”

Horatio kept staring and didn’t respond.

“Ophelia!”

Horatio and Ophelia looked at the bedroom door and saw Laertes standing there, still in his coat.

“What is going on in here? Why are you dressed like that,” Laertes said furiously to his sister. “Who are you,” he said to Horatio, but didn’t wait for a response and walked over to his sister, who smiled at her brother.

“What is going on,” he asked again to Ophelia.

“Dear brother! Daddy is dead!” Ophelia threw her arms around Laertes’s neck and smiled into his eyes. “Daddy is dead, and Hamlet has been kidnapped by pirates.”

Horatio saw Laertes’s shoulders drop. “What?” he said quietly.

“Oh, yes, darling, we’re orphans. Now we can off to England like Oliver Twist, or be like the Lost Boys and go to Never Never Land.”

Laertes turned around and walked over to Horatio.

“Who are you,” he said.

“Horatio. I’m a student here, at Elsinore.”

“What is going on with my sister?”

“I don’t know. I heard singing outside my door and went out and saw her and she came in.”

Laertes turned back and looked at Ophelia, who now closed her eyes again and began to hum.

“How long has she been like this?”

“I don’t know. I think she was fine last night. But with all the recent events…”

Horatio didn’t finish. He watched at Laertes became more concerned and looked on at his sister.

Ophelia began to sing the same song Horatio heard her singing earlier.

“Stop it, Ophelia! Stop it,” Laertes took Ophelia by the shoulders. Ophelia became overwhelmed when her brother started shouting. She somehow was able to escape his embrace and ran out of Horatio’s bedroom, screaming and crying.

Laertes ran after her and instinct made Horatio run too.

Ophelia ran down the main staircase, but tripped over the bottom stair and fell down. She curled herself up into a ball and began weeping.

“What is going on!” Claudius came out of the dining hall and found Ophelia on the ground, and Laertes and Horatio all on the stairs.

“What’s wrong with her,” asked Claudius.

No one responded, only watched Ophelia going into hysterics on the marble floor.

“My lord,” Albert, the head butler, came into the room. “You have a phone call from England.”

Claudius walked over to a table with a telephone on it in the front hall. He picked up the receiver, still looking at Ophelia in a disgusted and annoyed way.

“Well, what happened,” Claudius asked the hitman, who he put in charge of killing his nephew. “What!”

Laertes and Horatio now turned their attention to Claudius on the phone.

“You idiot! You were supposed to kill him, not the other two! God, I said Hamlet! Does Hamlet sound like two people! Well, where is he? Is he still in England?”

Ophelia stopped crying at the mention of Hamlet’s name.

“You’re a real idiot, you know that? I just might hire someone to come and kill you.”

Ophelia let out another scream and then ran away outside, with no one following after her.

Claudius slammed down the phone and began breathing heavily with his face now turning red.

“What happened,” asked Laertes.

“Hamlet’s alive.”

Horatio grabbed hold of the banister.

“What,” Laertes said.

“He somehow, I don’t know, paid off the hitman or just sweet-talked him, but anyhow, he convinced him that he had orders to kill Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, not he, Hamlet.”

“Where’s Hamlet now.”

“He’s coming back to Elsinore.”

“Is he insane? Does he realize…” Laertes stopped and looked back at Horatio.

“Dear student, I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, but would you please leave us to discuss some matters at hand.” Laertes gave Horatio a cunning smile.

Horatio nodded and bid good day to Claudius and went to his room. Once he turned around, a secret smile formed on his face. _Hamlet was alive._

* * *

 

“Who is that,” asked Laertes. They shut themselves away in one of the drawing rooms, so no one could hear of their plans.

“Hamlet’s boyfriend,” said Claudius.

“Boyfriend? Really? I thought Hamlet was a misanthrope and had zero sex drive.”

“I don’t know. It makes me sick.”

“Is he a threat?”

Claudius shrugged.

“How are we going to get rid of him.”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. He’s just a student here. He’s dirt poor and Henry took him in as a charity case. Looking at the big picture, Horatio is the least of my concerns. Now, back to Hamlet.”

“Right, so he’s coming back to Elsinore. Why do you think?”

“Probably to tell us off again and try to kill me and then take over is the only scenario I can think of.”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know, we’ll think of something. I think we should shoot him. I like the idea of making it look like suicide. After all, a few people have witnessed his madness as of late, so it really wouldn’t look suspicious.”

“Hanging, pills, a gun,” Laertes slyly said.

“Yes, one of those will do.”

“I want to be the one that does it.”

Claudius looked at Laertes.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” said Laertes walking over to Claudius.

Someone knocked at the door. Laertes went over to answer it, only to find Gertrude standing in the doorway.

“My beautiful wife,” began Claudius. “How art thou this morning?”

Gertrude, dressed in a pretty lounging dress and had tear-stained cheeks, took a breath and made an announcement.

“Ophelia has died after drowning in the fountain.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to everyone! I hope you are all doing well. It is sad to say, but this is the last chapter of the story. I am sad to end it now but it must be done. I just wanted to take the time out here and say the biggest THANK YOU to everyone who clicked Kudos, wrote comments, kept returning to the story. It was you who motivated me to add another chapter and keep going until it is finished. This is my first story that I have ever posted on here and I am so happy that I was welcomed into the community of Archive of Our Own. I read Hamlet for the first time last December and it stayed with me, especially Hamlet and Horatio's friendship. (They are ideal). I remember coming across this website when I was looking for theories about the two of them. I was absolutely thrilled when I discovered there was a Hamlet fandom on here. I hope in the future there will always be a discussion of these two because they deserved so much and deserve to be with each other. 
> 
> Again, a huge thank you to everyone who has read, supported or will read this in the future. I hope you all enjoy(ed) it. I would like to acknowledge a few specific people: Kimbeen, galugo, Enjwhorelas, tuinfeest, katsuras, histories, tashisabutt, 2B_or_not_2B, Shakespeaere_Fan_1, Kate, Molly Ailsa Ingham, and the 22 guests who left kudos. 
> 
> The pleasure and the privilege is mine. Enjoy the final chapter. :)

Everyone was on edge after the announcement of Ophelia’s death that morning. A thick tension ran from every room of the castle and struck all of its residents. Everyone wasted the day in suspicion of each other, waiting for the next death. It was as though at any moment the person you loved most was suddenly going to pull out a dagger and end your day early. 

No one was aware of Ophelia’s growing madness. There wasn’t any time for anyone to help. Laertes carried his sister’s soaking body quietly to their apartment. Claudius shut himself away in his study, falling in and out of reality and frenzy. Gertrude went back to sleep.

However, more lively activity was happening in Horatio’s room, as he paced back and forth between packing and unpacking, to go find Hamlet or wait for Hamlet. He denied his ethics during that grim day and felt a need to rejoice that his love was still alive. He waited in anticipation of seeing Hamlet again.

It was still the early hours in the afternoon and the mid-October sun warmed the air outside.

Horatio left his room and headed for the kitchen, before being stopped by the head butler, Albert.

Albert was just closing the front door and had the mail.

“Horatio,” he called in a friendly manner.

Horatio turned around and smiled.

“This just came for you,” he said passing a white envelope with dirt and water stains on it.

“Thank you,” said Horatio.

In his heart and in his thoughts, he desperately hoped it was from Hamlet. He prayed silently for his safety.

 _Horatio,_ it began.

_I wish you were here with me in england. I can see Neptune from where I am. I hope you are safe. I miss you_

_Et usque in aeternum semper,_

_H_

* * *

It was a code.

Beyond the garden outside the library, beyond the mausoleum and the enormous mythological fountain where Ophelia drowned, beyond the open field and the scattered trees, was a small fountain dedicated to Neptune.

One drunk night over the summer, Hamlet and Horatio wondered from the castle and stumbled upon the old fountain. The water ran dry and was left to decay since no one from the family has bothered to walk back that far on the property. They each took turns standing on the fountain reciting various poems and phrases they remembered from school and falling to the ground in hysterics and intoxication. They stayed and fell asleep and woke up seeing their hands clutching each other.

Horatio disappeared from the castle without anyone noticing.

He walked all the way back, keeping on the lookout for the set of the blond hair and blue eyed boy that he loved so much.

Horatio walked off the beaten path and went downhill, pushing away a few tree branches and stopped.

There was Hamlet sitting down, facing the fountain and turned away from Horatio. Horatio looked on in disbelief. Growing impatient he made another move, crushing the leaves under his shoe and causing Hamlet to turn his head. Upon realizing who was behind him, he stood and looked at Horatio. Horatio returned the stare.

“I thought you were gone forever,” Horatio said. He could feel his stomach fluttering.

Hamlet shook his head.

“I couldn’t leave this. I couldn’t leave you. I had to come back.”

The wind blew on Horatio’s back and he moved forward with it, taking his beloved’s face into his hands and kissing his lips. _This is what I would have missed if he went,_ he thought.

Hamlet pulled away and took Horatio’s hands and began to grace each knuckle and palm and wrists with kisses before looking back into his brown eyes.

“I love you, Horatio. I love you so much.”

Horatio welcomed Hamlet’s lips back onto his. He let his hands fall to Hamlet’s back and began to roam over his shoulder blades and the bones in his back. He moved over holding onto his hips then to his waist and finally grabbing onto the buttons of his shirt. Horatio didn’t take Hamlet’s shirt off as fast but instead laid his hands on his exposed chest, letting his fingers feel his beating heart as a reassurance that this wasn’t a dream and Hamlet was there and alive.

When it became too much for them, they stripped down to the bone quietly but breathlessly and descended to the ground together in ecstasy. Any feeling of fear or contempt for the world disappeared with every sigh, gasp, moan, love bite and kiss. In the middle of being at war with the world, they found peace with the sky above and the field below. They explored each other like the first night they spent together, but held onto each other like they have always done since. 

_I could have lost this._

* * *

 

“What are you thinking about,” asked Horatio.

Hamlet kept staring at him. He was sitting up and twirling a dandelion around between his fingers. He smiled. “I was just thinking how beautiful you look under the October sun.”

Horatio laid bare against the grass with his hands behind his head. He began to blush under Hamlet’s gaze. “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know,” he said, removing his hand under his head and took hold of Hamlet’s ankle and began to stroke his soft skin.

Hamlet moved down to Horatio and began to kiss his neck and left a small trail of kisses on his chest.

“Horatio?” He said, coming up for air.

“Yes?”

“Will you forgive me?”

“What have you done?”

“I am sorry for everything. That you came here and had to experience this- me, my dad dying, Ophelia, the whole thing. I am very sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Horatio said taking him into his arms. Hamlet placed his head on Horatio’s chest and began to draw invisible shapes by his heart as Horatio moved his fingers slowly up and down Hamlet’s back. 

Hamlet broke the silence by smirking and sitting back up.

“You know something, Horatio? I remember when my parents told me that you were coming to live with us and go to school with me. I remember going to bed thinking that you were going to be some ugly monster that was going to be friends with Laertes and Rosencrantz and all of them. I hated you before I even met you and I thought for sure you would hate me too. And look at where we are now. If someone told me that I would be…making love outside, away from my home, to that exact boy that I thought for sure I would hate, I would not believe them. And if they told me that I would be feeling this happiness, a happiness that I never felt before in my life all because of that boy, I would have laughed right in their face. But here I am. I have never been so much in love with someone and I don’t think I will ever feel this way again with anyone.”

A silence fell upon the moment.

“ Horatio, I  love you more than the stars in Heaven and I’ll love you till the day I die.”

Horatio thought to himself. How does one respond to such a statement. He must of had a quizzical look on his face because Hamlet broke the silence of saying, “What’s wrong, Horatio?”

He was afraid of speaking because he thought his voice might crack with emotion.

“Are you worrying, Horatio? I thought that was my job.” Hamlet smiled again at him. “I know, let’s runaway. Let’s just pack our things and get on a train and just go. We can go back to your house or go to that home by the beach, you remember the one I told you about. We can see if it is still for sale. We can buy it and it would just be the two of us forever. If you’re worried about money, you shouldn’t because I got enough. I mean, of course, we can get jobs. I’m sure you would like to work. That’s fine. I can get a job too. We can come home every evening to each other after work and spend every night together. I suppose we will have to disguise ourselves. I’m sure Claudius will have his little spies after us. You can grow a beard. I would like to see you with a beard. You would look ruggedly handsome. I can stay at home and hide. I don’t mind. To be honest, I don’t mind if I never see another human being again. Just as long as I see you, that’s enough. No one else matters. What do you think?”

Horatio thought about this and turned over onto his stomach and rested his chin on his crossed arms. “You coo strange words sometimes.”

Hamlet moved, too, so he was lying on Horatio’s back. He kissed the nape of his neck and hair and lightly bit Horatio’s ear, causing him to breath out a laugh.

“Come away with me, Horatio,” he whispered in-between kisses.

Horatio thought about this. He realized that if they did, he was running away with someone of nobility. There would be watchmen out looking for them. He might get arrested. Hamlet might get arrested. After all, he did commit murder. The life he would share with Hamlet would be a difficult one. But, he loved Hamlet. He stilled loved him through all his faults for these things did not truly make up the person that Horatio knew and loved. _He needs me. He needs to be protected._

“There are a few things I have to go back for at the castle before we go,” Horatio replied.

* * *

 

They waited until the last light went out in the castle then they made their move. Fortunately, the door to the library was unlocked and they walked through there. The castle was completely dark and silent, as if everyone was on vacation for the season.

The moon shined down on the furniture causing them to have look irregular in the shadows. They reminded Hamlet of the ghost. He wondered if he would encounter him again while walking through the mansion. Hamlet felt the hair on his skin stand up. He began to get the idea that maybe they weren’t quite alone as they thought they were.

Hamlet and Horatio reached the front stairs and as best as they could, silently went up. They first went to Horatio’s room and packed as much as they could into one bag. The last stop was Hamlet’s room. He gathered a few clothes, shoes, and loose change. He closed his suitcase and walked out of his room with Horatio.

“Oh, wait,” Hamlet said quietly and went back in. Horatio watched as Hamlet went over to his bookshelf and grabbed _A Moveable Feast._ Horatio gave him that book. He remembered he brought it to his room after Hamlet sat through a dinner of being degraded by his family. Hamlet placed the book in his bag. He looked back in his suitcase and closed it once more.

“Now we can go,” he said smiling at Horatio, who smiled back.

They held hands walking down the stairs. The only goal they had in mind was to just make it out of Elsinore. Once they got off the premise of the castle, they could breathe and head to the train station to escape.

They went out the way they came in by going through the library. The moon was still shining down into the room. Hamlet grabbed hold of the handle on the French doors in the library and pulled down.

“It’s locked,” he whispered. He pulled on it some more. “Someone locked it.”

Horatio sensed fear in Hamlet’s voice.

“It’s okay. We can go through the front. We’ll just move quickly.”

Hamlet grabbed Horatio’s hand again and they walked to the front hall.

_Almost there._

They reached the door and Hamlet put down his suitcase and fumbled through the pocket of his jacket to get the key. He still held hands with Horatio.

He pulled it out and put it in the door lock. Turning the key, it made a decent noise, but not as loud as the noise that was recognizable behind them.

“Hello, Hamlet,” came a voice.

Horatio wondered if he was dead. He felt he was dying, but was still able to stand up as if the shock and darkness couldn’t take him down just yet.

He knew he was still alive because he was able to turn his head and see the young man he met earlier that day behind them, pointing a gun at the two of them.

Hamlet stayed in the same position and did not turn around. He knew who was behind him.

“Let us go, Laertes,” he said. Hamlet’s voice remained calm and authoritative.

“I don’t think so, Hamlet. Not so fast.” Horatio watched as Laertes kept moving a little back and forth, undecided if he should stay back or move forward to his target.

“If you don’t, Laertes, then I might have to do something that I really don’t want to do right now.”

“You took what I loved the most, Hamlet,” Laertes said. “Now, I take your’s.” Laertes moved the gun over so he was definitely pointing at Horatio.

Hamlet dropped Horatio’s hand and pulled out a gun and pointed at his opponent. Horatio didn’t remember seeing Hamlet pack a gun.

“You shoot him and I kill you.”

“I don’t care if you kill me. You already killed my family, you might as well kill me too. But before I die, I want you to feel what I have gone through.”

The room seemed to darken as the silence between the dueling gunmen grew.

“Horatio, get out of the way,” Hamlet ordered.

The light in the front hall came on and everything was brought into perspective. The boys looked up, as if God himself turned on the lights and was coming to intervene. But, it was only Claudius and Gertrude. Claudius ran down the stairs halfway, still tying his robe. He stopped to look at Hamlet and Laertes, who still had their guns pointed at each other. Gertrude remained upstairs, holding onto the banister.

“What is going on here,” said Claudius concerned.

“What do you mean what’s going on here? I told you about the plan earlier today,” Laertes whined.

Hamlet eyed Claudius.

“The real person I should probably be pointing this gun at is that fat bastard on the stairs,” Hamlet said.

“I don’t think so,” Claudius said, taking his own gun out of his bathrobe’s pocket.

Hamlet was out-numbered now. Two guns pointed at him. Two guns pointed at Horatio.

He felt his mouth drop a little as he was unprepared for this. 

“That’s not fair,” he said to them. “You can’t both be ready to kill me.”

“There’s two of you and two of us. I don’t see how that is unfair,” Laertes said.

“He’s unarmed,” Hamlet said.

Gertrude put her hands on her head. She watched as her husband and her godson pointing weapons of destructions at her son, her only son. She always loved Hamlet. She never wanted to hurt him and was now sorry if she did. How did things escalate to this?

She couldn’t take it. She fell into the river of madness, floating just behind Ophelia and catching up. Gertrude gave out a loud scream at the top of the stairs and closed her eyes. She let her body give away and fell down the stairs, going too fast for Claudius to catch her. Claudius became distracted and turned to his wife.

“Mom!” Hamlet shouted and ran over to his mother, now on the ground. Blood began spilling out behind her hair and staining the white marble floor.

Laertes took advantaged of the moment and gave away the first shot, hitting Hamlet in his right abdomen. He fell down struggling to get up.

“Hamlet,” Horatio shouted and moved slightly.

“Don’t you fucking move,” Laertes ordered to Horatio.

What could Horatio do? He watched as Hamlet’s legs struggled but finally stopped and he laid there for a second. Laertes began to move ahead to where he laid.

Within a blink, Hamlet sat up and began to shoot at Laertes. One shoot, two shoot, three shoot. Laertes gave out a dying moan and collapsed to the ground. Claudius straightened up from the stairs and backed away from Hamlet. Hamlet was struggling on his feet and walked before Claudius. He kept inching away from Hamlet as he grew closer.

“Get away, Hamlet. I’ll shoot!”

Claudius pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. However, it jabbed. The gun was rusted and old. It could no longer keep him safe.

“Get away!” He was sweating like mad and breathing hard.

Hamlet pointed the gun at Claudius. 

“This…,” Hamlet said pointing the gun at his uncle.

Claudius closed his eyes and let out a loud cry. Hamlet let go of the trigger until the barrel was empty.

Horatio was backed against the door. He looked around at the three lifeless bodies lying on beds of blood.

Hamlet turned around to face him and dropped the gun. He began to walk over to Horatio, but his legs gave out.

Horatio rushed over to him, taking Hamlet into his arms and holding him.

“No, Hamlet. Come on! Stay with me!”

Hamlet gave out patchy breaths. Tears came rolling down Horatio’s cheeks. _This can’t be happening._

“Horatio,” Hamlet breathed.

“Come on, Hamlet. Stay awake. Don’t close your eyes.” He began to rub Hamlet’s hair. That soft blond hair he saw every morning peeking out from the bedsheets.

“Horatio,” he breathed again. “Listen.”

“I’m listening, Hamlet. I’m right here.”

Horatio felt Hamlet’s body tense as if he wanted to let out a cough but couldn’t.

“Horatio, I love you,” he struggled out.

“Hamlet, don’t die. Please don’t die. We’re almost there. We’re right here by the door. We’re going to leave and get on the train and go to that house and get jobs and it’s going to be you and me forever. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

Hamlet didn’t respond.

“Hamlet, I’m coming with you,” Horatio said frustratingly. “Remember? Wherever you go, I go. I am coming with you. Don’t let me stay here by myself, Hamlet!”

“Horatio, you have to stay,” he was really trying. “Horatio, stay here and please don’t forget me. Stay here and tell my story. That way you’ll always remember me.”

“I’ll never forget you, Hamlet!”

“We’ll see each other again, Horatio. We’ll see each other again. And when we do, it’s only going to feel like it was just an hour since we last saw each other.”

Hamlet smiled. Horatio finally broke down and clutched him closer.

“Don’t worry, Horatio. We’ll see each other soon. See you soon,” he breathed out his last words and closed his eyes.

“C’mon, love. Don’t die. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, love,” Horatio kept repeating.

He stared down at Hamlet and watched as his head fell back and arms drop to the floor after clutching at Horatio’s shirt.

Everything became very still. Even Horatio stopped sobbing. The only noise that could be heard was the ticking Grandfather clock.

Horatio moved his eyes away and looked around himself. The decorated front hall of the castle looked like a battlefield. All the king’s men are dead, except him. What was the cause of this bloodshed, he could not remember.

He looked back down at Hamlet’s lifeless body, still holding him closely in his arms.

He spent many nights holding Hamlet in his arms, so why did tonight feel so different?

And like so many of those nights, Horatio bent his head down and whispered, “Goodnight, sweet prince; and flights of angels sing you to sleep.”

* * *

 

Albert, the butler, could hear the shouting and gunshots upstairs, but had many reasons not to intervene until things quieted down. He woke up with the sun, got dressed, and headed up the stairs to see the damage that had been done.

He had his ideas of what might of happened, but was not expecting to see everyone dead. The Lord and Lady, the rightful heir, the ambitious young man, and the poor student from the city.

 _All dead,_ he thought.

His mouth dropped at the sight of the blood everywhere.

“My God,” he said.

To his utter surprise, a person stirred at his voice. It was the poor student from the city. His body was covering Lord Hamlet. He looked up at Albert with sleepy eyes.

“Horatio,” was all he could say.

Horatio made no response. He looked around the room to see if it had all been a dream. It was not. Everyone was still in their position as they were last night.

“Are you hurt,” Albert asked.

Horatio shook his head slowly.

“That’s good.”

Albert looked back at Claudius and Gertrude.

“I think I better call Lord Fortinbras.” Albert said and scurried away, leaving Horatio to face day one of a life without his love.

It was set up in a written document that should the Lord of Elsinore die and there is not an heir, then Lord Fortinbras must be contacted and be put in-charge.

Fortinbras had much more approval by the people of Elsinore than Claudius or Henry ever did.

He came later that day and took over the palace. Talk ran through the entire village and everything was closed down for the day.

Fortinbras arrived by car and had his advisors followed him around the palace, inspecting the bodies and deaths. He opened the door to the library and ordered that he would be working from there. He looked back over at the dead bodies and blood everywhere.

“The police are on their way. It’s going to be hard to get all the stains out of the carpet and marble,” he said to Albert, who was trailing behind.

Fortinbras stopped and reexamined.

“I thought you said Lord Hamlet died, as well.”

“He did sir. His body is in the chapel upstairs.”

Horatio carried Hamlet to the chapel on the second floor, and placed him before the alter. He didn’t like the idea of leaving him there on the cold floor. He lit a few candles and sat down in the pew. He didn’t know what to do except stare at his one true love’s body.

“Horatio,” came a voice.

Horatio turned around and saw Lord Fortinbras standing at the doorway with the sun shining on his back.

“May I come in,” he said politely.

Horatio nodded.

“You thought it was fitting to let Lord Hamlet have a proper funeral, but not Lord Claudius? He is of much more importance than this boy.”

“He was my friend. He was much more than that, exactly,” said Horatio, looking down.

“I’m sure he meant a lot to you.” Fortinbras walked over to Hamlet’s body and blessed himself with the sign of the cross.

“May I ask why you are here.” he asked Horatio.

“I was suppose to be going to school. Lord Henry was paying for my education.”

“Aw, but I take it that school is no longer in session.”

Horatio nodded.

“Well, I’m sure that makes you very happy. I know I was happy whenever class was cancelled.”

Horatio hated him. He hated that he was trying to make light of the tragedy.

Fortinbras sat down next to Horatio in the pew.

“Listen, Horatio. I didn’t mind Lord Henry, in fact, I had a great deal of respect for him. So the fact that he took you on and paid for your education says a lot. If you would like, you may stay and continue your studies.”

Horatio thought about this.

“Who knows, maybe you could work for the country or be one of my advisors.”

Horatio looked at Hamlet. He wondered what they would do to his body. He wondered if they would give him a proper burial. He wondered if he should stick around that long to see. He wondered if Hamlet would approve of him taking a career in politics. 

“No,” he said. “No, I think I might go home and get a job. Thank you though.”

Fortinbras nodded and shrugged. “Suit yourself. It would look good on your resume.”

* * *

 

Horatio went back to his room and packed his belongings. He said farewell to Albert and headed out the door and walked to the train station.

The sun was setting in the purple sky. Horatio waited by himself on the platform for the train. He was only about a two hour journey away from his home.

Home.

That word had so many different meanings now and he didn’t know which one he craved more.

Home was the little secure building he spent his childhood. Home was also in bed and being in Hamlet’s arms.

The train’s whistle sounded and he sat up to get ready to hop on.

He did and walked into an empty car and sat down next to the window. He watched as trees and fields and the evening sky all passed him. Sleepy town neighborhoods, undisturbed by last night’s violence.

The train came to a stop. He gathered his things and got off and made way out of the station.

He was back in the metropolitan city, where people were awake 24/7. It has been a while since he was last here.

Horatio moved around people and rolled his eyes at those stalling in front of him. He just wanted to get home.

The nights had become cold now and he pulled his jacket closer to him.

The familiar streets of apartments and stores lined his way as he headed to his house. He didn’t tell his mother that he was coming home.

He reached it. The last time he was here, he was with Hamlet and they were celebrating his birthday. Horatio never realized how small and plain his house was. It was basically the size of one room at Elsinore.

Horatio walked up the uneven concrete stairs and put his key in the lock and twisted it open. 

His face was met the smell of a cake baking and a television playing.

“Mom,” he called, closing the door.

Horatio’s mother appeared at the kitchen doorway. She was wearing an apron and her hair was falling out of its bun.

“Horatio,” she said, smiling and throwing her hands up in the air in total surprise.

“Hi, mom.”

“I am so happy to see my Horatio,” she said hugging him. Horatio wrapped his arms around his mother and held her close.

“Honey, I must ask, what are you doing home,” she said pulling away and staring into his eyes.

“It’s a long story, but can I tell you tomorrow? I am really tired.”

Horatio’s mother smiled. “Of course. Just tell me that you aren’t in any trouble.”

Horatio thought about this. His future seemed very uncertain at this point. He already missed three months that were suppose to be focused on school.

“I don’t think so. But, I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

Horatio’s mother smiled. “Okay. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s good to be back home.”

“I’m happy to see you back home.”

Horatio appreciated in that his mother was understanding. She didn’t force her way into the reason he was home. She would probably hear the news of Lord Claudius’s death and Fortinbras now in command. He had all of tomorrow to explain. Tomorrow would be the first day he would tell Hamlet’s story.

Horatio walked up the familiar stairs and went to his bedroom.

He turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Everything was still the same just like how he left it when he was last here. Last time, he was with Hamlet. They slept in that same bed together and loved each other there.

Horatio dropped his bags and sat down on his bed. He put his hand in his pocket looking for a specific object.

The gold pocket-watch.

He took it out and held it in his hand staring down.

Time. Time heals all wounds, and it was only a matter of time before he would see Hamlet, his Hamlet again.

Horatio wondered if time healed Hamlet’s wounds. He spent his whole life in a dysfunctional and selfish family. He wondered if Hamlet stayed it out a bit because he wanted to wait and see if his life would get better. He wondered if he saved Hamlet.

The night had settled now. Horatio put down the gold watch on his nightstand and proceeded to take off his coat and shoes.

He settled down on his bed, staring out the window, looking at the lamp light as it cast its shadow down on the concrete sidewalk. The neighbor’s baby began crying and a dog howled. Cars honked and the crossing guard blew his whistle. The world continued despite what happened many miles away.

Horatio could smell the tea his mother was making downstairs. It was a soothing smell, especially now that he was in a state of melancholia.

So with tired eyes, a tired mind and a tired soul, he slept.

 


End file.
